


Holding on to You

by becharlatan



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Abduction, Alternate Universe - Police, Bartender Niall, Blood, Borgata Mafia Freeform, Detective Louis, Fluff, Kid Fic, M/M, Mafia Boss Zayn, Mentions of Death, Mild Smut, Mildly Dubious Consent, idk how to tag honestly, mafia Harry, mentions of rape but nothing graphic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-19
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-04-05 03:58:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 31,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4164864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/becharlatan/pseuds/becharlatan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Borgata has Zayn Malik as the head boss or Capo Dei Capi. Liam, the chief-of-police, wants him down. Louis is one of the best detectives assigned to handle the Borgata case and must find out who Harry Styles is, aside from the information of being Zayn Malik's right hand.</p><p>or Detective Louis meets Harry, falls in love with him and, learns the town's nastiest secrets; Niall is the bartender in a pub where almost everyone rendezvous and; Zayn convinces Liam to join his side instead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The title's gotten from twenty-one pilots' Holding On To You. Listen to that one if you have time and figure out how on earth I came up with the idea of using it as the title for my Borgata AU Larry fic. :)
> 
> I will apologize beforehand for all the errors present in this fic. I am yet to edit this one. 
> 
> Let me know about your thoughts about this, yeah? x

Louis sulks on the stool and slams at the table as the bartender hands another tall pint of beer in reach. The young detective lets out another sigh as he loosens his necktie. He grabs the glass and chugs it in one quick go and puts the glass down, fancying the coaster with a tarnished and old logo of Budweiser as design. 

He never drinks, Louis. He never drinks. He only drinks on special occasions but damn, this is not just any occasion. He’s so frustrated and annoyed because Liam threw a fit on him this morning at work. 

Liam’s all messed up. And Louis’ all fucked up. He sent a crew to go undercover in one of the pubs Zayn Malik owns. A pub that sells weeds and makes underage crack and shit their thoughts out. Zayn Malik is just the most powerful and number one enemy of the police in town. Louis hates him even more because Liam’s threw a fit on him because of the mafia. 

Zayn has his ways into getting everyone wrapped around his finger. Nobody dare says any information of the Borgata to the cops. Or to a detective like Louis. And Louis is fucked up because he's crew messed up. They had a shootout last night, nearly killing two of his best men in the group. Liam's whipped, annoyed and frustrated that he literally shoved all paper works in his table that morning, making his secretary pissed at Louis too. 

Louis eyes the jazz band playing some Sinatra in the background. The bartender goes back to him after some minutes and offers a table napkin because, in all honesty, he doesn't know what to do with a whacked detective. All Niall knows is that Louis' one big mess and if Liam sees him right now, he'll throw another fit. 

“I’m so fucked up,” Louis mutters as he clutches on the table napkin and tries his best to wipe the corner of his lips with his tired and shaky hand. 

"I can see that," Niall replies and he glared at the detective who's chugging down another pint. Niall just rolls his eyes and spots one man slowly approaching the bar. He flashes his biggest and warmest smile and looks at the man with long legs and a fedora hat who sits beside the drunken cop. 

“Why, hello sir,” Niall says and the man smiles warmly. “Same deal?” Niall asks and the man nods, tilting his hat to his side, his curly hair bouncing beautifully against his cheeks. It was nothing special, really. It’s anything but alcohol and Louis snorts when he sees Niall pushes a tall glass of Strawberry milkshake to the man beside him. 

This is a pub. 

A fucking pub. No one orders milkshake in a _fucking_ pub. That _is_ a disgrace. 

“Well, it’s been a while,” Niall comments and the man, with a deep voice, which in Louis’ opinion, is like honey slowly grazing the tree, slow, languid and mind-blogging, replies something very incoherent because, he’s drunk like a whacked dad ripped off of the job. 

“It has, hasn’t it?” the man answers and Louis just shrugs his shoulders and shakes his glass, signalling the bartender to fill it up. 

"Hey, you're talking to me," Louis whines all of a sudden, the alcohol kicking slowly in and Niall laughs at the detective wrecked right in front of him. Niall is just sweet for tolerating Louis' sassy attitude when not in the mood. "You should only focus on me." Louis turns to his side and rolls his eyes at the man with the most beautiful eyes (and lips, and face, and hair, and skin. And is he even real?!) "I got here first," Louis mutters, dunking his head in his arms as he waits for Niall to fill his glass. 

He can feel the man smile because they’re sitting so close to each other that Louis can smell the wonderful cologne he’s wearing (and his nostrils won’t get tired of his scent) and the warmth coming from him (despite the thick layer of clothing). Niall hands in another glass and he glances up to see the crumpled face of the Irish lad looking at him. “I think you’ve had enough, Tommo,” Niall says and Louis only laughs, bitterly, as he grabs the glass and drinks his annoyance down, down, _down_ the pit of sorrow and hatred for Liam. 

And Zayn. 

And the Borgata. 

And in life, in general. 

His phone buzzes inside his jacket. He reaches for it and curses when the message flashes on the screen. 

_Zayn’s men created another mess._

Louis feels like drinking again, until tomorrow, maybe. Perhaps. 

He’s about to hide his phone back and bask into the singer’s wonderful attempt of Sinatra’s My Way when it buzzes again and he seriously needs a well to drop his phone in. 

_Harry Styles is in town._

The detective blinks. He bites his lip because, after reading the message for three times, all he can mutter was, “Who the fuck is Harry Styles?” 

The bartender eyes him carefully and the sound of the spoon tingling against the glass beside him makes him shuffle. Louis looks at his side and frowns when the man is no longer there. 

“He’s a friend of yours?” Louis asks and Niall nods warily. He sniffles a small smile before fetching the glass and wiping the table clean. Louis doesn’t ask any more questions because he’s facing much bigger problems right now. He would love to, however, get to know about the man because his eyes are just mesmerising and deep and lovely, and actually, Louis can make a list of the things he finds attractive about the man. But he decides not to because right now, he needs to do some searching on this Harry Styles that seems to make Liam devastated, even more. 

— 

“I can’t fucking believe it,” Liam shrieks the next morning. His coffee, all forgotten and cold and Louis tries to stop the yawn about to come out from his mouth for the nth time. He comes in the office a little later than expected and he would really have to thank Niall for accompanying him home last night. He wouldn’t have a decent sleep, on an actual bed, if not for his best mate, Niall. He thinks he should give him a beer or ask him out for lunch or dinner or whatever, as thank you. He guesses. 

“I’m having troubles with the _Capo dei capi _already and now his best _Capodecina_ comes in town,” Liam mutters as he straightens his posture. He presses a button on the phone to reach his secretary. “Bring me another coffee, please. This one’s gotten cold,” he says nicely and Louis plays with his tie. __

He should really be in his chair right now, hogging through files and information to get his assignment done with. He doesn’t even know what had happened for him to get with this. He’s just doing his best with work and all. Aiming to perform well and accomplish things, that is Louis Tomlinson. 

Louis is one fucked mess, that is what he thinks. He's been working as town's best detective ever since he could remember until Liam assigned him the most difficult mission to crack in town's history: Capo dei Capi Zayn Malik and his Borgata. 

Many had tried, and many had failed. Louis thinks he would fail since no one dares to deal with this one because people outside the office are scared to spill some beans. They rather stay silent than to be killed by Zayn's men. Who wouldn't? 

Liam's secretary comes in, carrying a tray filled with pastries and two tall tumblers of black americano. She places the tray on the free table hurriedly and steps out the room because Liam is pissed and he'll throw a fit anytime soon. Louis just want to bang his boss on the nearest wall because his tantrums won't work in this situation. And fuck, how can he manage to hide his hangover? He should reward himself for that. Later. 

"How's your investigation so far?" Liam asks as he sits down on his chair and tries to relax his shoulders. He grabs one of the tumblers and takes in the wonderful, black, and calming scent of the coffee before drinking it in. He looks at the detective who's watching him closely too. 

"It's could've been better," Louis answers as he crosses his legs and places his hands on the armrest. "But your men just made it all so complicated. I thought I told you to leave everything to me? Now look at what's happened. Two of my best men were almost killed for your shit." Louis snaps because he's really mad, still. He's still mad at Liam. 

It was true, he needed help but being helped and being revealed all at the same time is everything but success. Louis stretches, his head starting to bang, and he eyes Liam with red and tired eyes. 

“I sent a set of rascals, it’s my fault,” Liam amends. He crosses his arms as he leans against the backrest and breathes out heavily. 

Louis knows Liam’s stressed with Zayn. Zayn has been Liam’s problem ever since Louis could remember. Louis was 25 when he joins the police in this town. It was a mess and he’s been hired detective since day one. Liam was already his boss at that time, a coffee addict and workaholic. He never leaves his room, is what Louis comments on his first week and he had no issues whatsoever with that. He knows that being a cop is never an easy job. 

The Borgata has been their number one problem, ever since Louis was assigned to work under Liam. Malik is the top most wanted person in town and the prize is never declared because money isn't enough to give credit to whoever had the guts to spill information about the Lord Mafia. 

It’s funny, really, Louis thinks. It’s already part of their culture and he thinks he can’t do anything about Zayn and the Borgata because the town seems to protect him too. The law is all messed up to handle with this. However, Louis is a top detective in his batch, in his previous town, and in this town, and he will do everything in his power just to get his hands in Zayn’s throat and put him behind bars. But he needs to calm Liam down first, and gulp that coffee he’s been eyeing the moment it came in (even though, he prefers tea in the morning, but a cuppa of joe won’t kill). 

"It is _your_ fault," Louis replies and Liam looks at him with a small nod. Louis is just thankful that Liam knows when to say sorry. Thank god, his hungover is working with him. He's calm and collected and he really needed coffee. 

“Have you seen my text? Harry Styles,” Liam continues, his jaw clenching tightly and his knuckles turning white slowly. Louis knows this Harry Styles is anything but good news. 

“Yeah, I’ve seen it,” Louis answers and Liam looks at him. Liam is younger than him, he knows it, but he’s one hell of a smart guy and Louis thinks that if Liam just leaves the office, even for once, it would help. He needs a little bit of sunlight on his skin, and he needs to socialise and put his gun strap hugging his fit torso down for a while. 

Liam pulls his upper left drawer open and grabs a brown envelope. He pushes it toward Louis and the detective takes it. Under the flip, he sees a name typewritten neatly. 

**Harry Styles**

“You know, the first thing that could help me knowing the guy is a picture. I mean really,” Louis comments as he flips through papers and scans on it quickly. He lets out a chortle, a distressed chortle, a sigh? He doesn’t even know because he’s been working with this case for three months now, and his first attempt to go undercover failed and his boss is giving him another pain in the arse. And really, why does the file fail to contain a picture of the target? Why does he have to be unfair and making his already difficult life even more difficult? 

"That's how mysterious he is," Liam answers. He closes his eyes because maybe he hasn't slept for weeks now, or a month, give or take. And Louis can see the agony in the lines of his face. "I had him spied. Ten minutes in and my man was rushed to the hospital. No evidence. Nothing. All of the weapons—gone, including the camera used to capture photos of him." 

"That's how good he is?" 

“That is how good _Harry_ is.” 

“I thought Malik’s the big boss?” Louis asks, utterly intrigued by this Harry Styles. 

“He’s next in line,” Liam explains and Louis whistles at that. 

"Is Harry Zayn's son? What? I don't understand." Louis asks because all he can imagine is a six-year-old kid, holding a lollipop of something sweet but surrounded by bodyguards and Zayn's his wealthy, good-looking fucktard of a dad that controls the town but needs to be set behind bars. 

“Stepbrother,” Liam says. “Read the file and do something about him. I don’t think having Harry is a good thing, especially when Zayn owns practically half of the town already. I don’t want this to be a total mess. The mayor’s asking for our help, he fears that Zayn will do something terrible on the bay port’s grand re-opening next month. We’ve got to do something about it.” 

Louis clutches on to the envelope tightly and nods at Liam before getting up, his hungover slowly sinking in and he shakes his head as if trying to shake it off. He needs a cigarette. He bloody needs to focus. 

He steps out the building, leans against the bricked wall of the office outside, and lights up the cigarette he takes out from his pocket. 

_Harry Styles._

_24_

_Photo: Unavailable_

_Parents: Unknown_

_Step brother of Zayn Malik._

_Studied abroad. Literature._

_Capo_

_Excellent with guns and knives._

Louis wants to burn the file. Nothing is really useful and helpful and, clearly whoever had spied on him had been useless. He could’ve at least spied on his favorite snack, or tea, or color, or a hobby? 

Louis inhales deeply until he finishes his cigarette in one quick puff. 

If Zayn is already difficult to catch, he thinks Harry is as worse than the Capo dei Capi. But he's only just a right hand, next in line, what could possibly go wrong? 

Louis sighs. 

— 

When Louis arrives at the pub that night, he spots Niall talking cheekily to a man across him at the bar. He approaches his best mate and eyes the man carefully. Surely, he can't just forget that curls and that long legs dangling from the stool, feet almost brushing the floor. 

"Ah, Louis!" Niall says happily and Louis snorts at Niall being so cheery. He is never this happy when he's with Louis, or he maybe does, but Louis is always tired with work he can't even recall anymore. 

He strides toward the stools and glances at the man who’s talking some crappy joke to Niall. His fedora hat settling before him on the table. Louis settles himself and slouches his back as Niall flashes him a wide grin. 

“What should I get you, mate?” Niall asks and Louis rolls his eyes. 

Niall laughs as he winks at the man beside him and walks away to fetch Louis a tall glass of draft beer. Louis lets out a sigh and the man turns to face him. 

"It seems like you always have beer for dinner," the man says in a voice so deep that Louis might actually fall into its pit. 

_Fuck off,_ Louis wants to reply but instead, he blinks when the man grins ever so widely, teeth pearl white and curls bouncing on his skin. 

“I’m Harold,” the man introduces and Louis nods. He can feel his cheeks getting warm because there’s no way someone, a stranger at that, could be this giddy. 

"Louis," Louis replies and he suddenly feels a bit embarrassed and little (and it's not helping because Harold is tall, like a giant, it's annoying). How can someone this tall be so fucking beautiful too?! Louis tries to remain calm as Harold stares at him with eyes so green, it's getting him jaded. 

Niall returns with a tall glass careful in his hand and his smile disappeared. Louis bridges his eyebrows just to make sure he'd seen his sudden change of expression correctly. Niall hands the glass to Louis and gives him a small smile that flattens away too quickly for his liking. Harold grins at Niall and Niall grins back before excusing himself to attend to the other customers already filling the pub. 

Louis ignores Niall's mood swings and reaches for the glass. He notices that Harold had just finished his strawberry milk shake and a plate of celery sticks with ranch. Louis snorts at the choice of the meal because really, how healthy can you actually pretend to be? Milkshake and ranch, like fucking _seriously_. 

He forgets however that he’s drinking when he snorted and the beer bubbles in his nose, making a mess in his shirt. “Fuck off. Just great, just fucking great.” 

Harold offers a stack of table napkins and Louis snorts yet again as he grabs a handful and wipes his shirt clean. Louis wipes the foam off his philtrum and he hears Harold giggle beside him. Who on earth giggles like that? It’s like a squeal of a little girl who had been given a puppy for her 7th birthday. It’s disgustingly sweet. Louis _likes it._

Louis wants to question him, push him over the counter and wipe that grin off of his face. 

"You have, um," Harold stutters and Louis looks at him, loosening his necktie and quirking his brows in confusion. "You have foam, here— can I?" 

Even before he can stutter an answer, Harold leans in and licks the foam off the tip of Louis’ nose. Louis blinks and his warm cheeks feel like in an oven right now, waiting for the pizza to cook because Harold smells strawberries and milk. His eyes so green, so alive and Louis can’t help but stare into them. The curls are so perfect, Louis wonders how would they feel when he plays it with his fingers. 

Niall appears (thankfully) before them and Louis pulls away. He wipes his nose and Harold winks at him before he shuffles off of his stool and grabs his hat. He fixes his suit and cuffs the sleeves before putting on the hat, tilting it like of those of sophisticated man in the black and white films. 

"Thanks again, Ni," Harold says and he turns away before giving Louis a wink. Niall beams as he leans on the counter and eyes at Harold. Louis is looking at him too, trying his best not to hang his mouth open as Harold strides gracefully across the room. It's making his heartthrob for a moment and he thinks Harold is walking in an agonisingly slow pace, it makes his other body parts twitch. 

“Careful Tommo,” Niall says all of a sudden. He’s still leaning toward the counter and Louis blinks when Harold turns to his back and smile at them before stepping out of the pub. 

“Why? He looks fit. I mean, despite the giraffe legs,” Louis replies as he turns back to face Niall properly. 

Niall eyes him carefully, his breathing tensed and Louis wants to ask him what's been bothering him ever since he arrived. "Look, you're me best mate, Louis, and Harold's a good friend too," Niall stutters as he grabs the cloth hanging by his hip. 

Louis takes another swig from the glass until he's cleared its content and waits for Niall to finish. 

He never did, though. Even before Niall could continue talking, Josh calls for his attention for his help with the drinks and Louis' phone started ringing. Louis dashes out off the pub. He doesn't notice how Niall lingers his eyes at him as he goes. 

He also didn't notice the man standing by a street post on the other side of the road. Harold eyes Louis as he hurries to his car, shuffles his keys and starts the engine. He floors the gas and Harold stares blankly at the red lights getting smaller and smaller until gone. 

_Louis,_ Harold thinks and he jump in place when his phone rings. He slides it open and places it on his ear. 

“Zayn,” Harold greets and he can feel the man on the other line grins widely after hearing his voice. 

— 

Louis stops by the crime scene, parking his car across the street. He puts on his coat and crosses at the other side. Liam is flicking the cigarette between his fingers and Louis can see the strain in his face as Liam bends down the pavement and studies the entire scene. 

Louis blinks at Liam, curious as Liam presses his ear against the street and Louis thinks it’s crazy until Liam shouts, “It’s an underground pub, find a way in!” 

He blinks and does what Liam did, just to figure out what's happening. There are sounds and vibrations coming underneath and Louis assesses that there are tons of teenagers and the Borgata in it. 

He stands up and removes his leather shoes. He will regret taking it off under the cold night and the pavement being wet from the afternoon rain. He takes each step slowly, feeling the ground with vibrations and trying to feel despite the rambling of the other cops around him. 

He hates getting a drink on time like this because he's senses will not cooperate, but this is their chance of capturing the Borgata. This is _his_ chance. 

"Turn off your engines!" Louis shouts and Liam looks at him before repeating it furiously. His eyes are on Louis as Louis steps on the road with his socks covering his feet. 

Louis can feel the sound getting stronger as he walks towards the around the building and Liam follows him, his hand holding the gun under his coat. 

As Louis takes another step, he feels the vibration getting crazier and Louis points the manhole beside the garbage bins. Louis notices the manhole spray painted with 'H.S.'. Liam nods at Louis before Louis kneels an inch away the manhole and asks for help. 

Two men approach him and together, they pull the manhole open and flashes before them is a path down, with lights of different colors flickering on the tight walls and a loud sound from a mashed up song of Katy Perry’s in the background. 

Louis gets in, and lands on his feet. He pulls the gun from his coat and starts walking. Other cops follow him and they silently walk in the deeper part of the hole and Louis blinks at the sight of teenagers dancing, almost everywhere, it’s almost impossible that a pub can actually be seen underground London with a manhole as its only entrance. 

There's nothing but a small bar at the left and, sofa couches around the place. Teenagers filled the room and Louis steps a little further, eyeing the man sniffing a baggie. The kid looks up at him and curses under his breath when he sees Louis' men behind him. 

Louis smirks, “Everyone stop what they’re doing!” 

The music dies down and everyone looks at him, and Louis feels a smirk on his face. “Party’s over, this is the police.” 

A girl starts to scream and some men rustle on their seats, feeling dizzy and fucked up because this isn't happening. Louis sighs and even before anyone could protest, he instructs, "Everyone make a single line. Don't you dare try running away from me," he threatens and everyone falls silent as the cops ask them to scoot and stand up. 

The place is cramped and Louis hates it. He’s not claustrophobic or anything, but the place is stinking shite and Louis wants to get over with this already. 

The cops inspect each and every teenager as they slowly get out of the pub and Louis hates the man who had started this party. Under a manhole, seriously? 

He walks toward the bar and searches for something as a sign, marker, anything to lead them into something, mainly the existence of this pub. 

Louis knows this one belongs to the Borgata but this is just new and they’ve never raided the place because it doesn’t exist before. Louis wanders at the back corner of the place and scans all the couches, carpets and found nothing. 

The people had lessened and only a few cops are left with him when one officer walks to him, carrying a blue scented invitation. Louis flips the envelope and pulls out a small pink card. 

_H.S_

378 Charleston St. 

“Every single person has one,” Michael tells Louis and Louis stares at the envelope. 

“Does everyone know each other? Did they come from the same university? Same peers?” 

Michael shakes his head and Louis is cut by footsteps approaching them. 

Michael turns to face Liam and he steps aside to give way. Louis stares at his boss and Liam shakes his head in disapproval. 

“The kids were chosen in random. The invitations were handed onto them randomly, at school, on their way home, at the mall. It all happened this afternoon,” Liam tells and Louis nods as he listens intently and thinks for a moment how the man managed to slip all fifty-five invitations randomly all at the same time. 

“This could be his doing,” Liam says, flicking the cigarette and putting it between his lips. 

Louis stares at the envelope, eyes glued on the initials and he bites his bottom lip as he wonders at the back of his mind anything useful to trace the guy. 

"Collect all invitations there are still to save. Run tests. Look for fingerprints, traces— anything we can find useful," Louis tells to Michael and the cop nods, taking the invitation from Louis. Louis, however, pulls the invitation and Liam eyes him. 

“I’ll keep this one,” Louis says and Michael nods unwarily before stepping away and gives the instruction to everyone. 

“The Borgata’s getting in me nerves,” Liam says as he inhales a heavy musky smoke from his cigarette and Louis laughs before stealing the cigarette and taking it with him. 

“You’re always tensed when Malik’s behind the chaos,” Louis retorts and Liam huffs as he grabs the cigarette case underneath his coat. 

True. Liam has never rested ever since the day they'd ran undercover in one of the Borgata's pub in the centre of the town. Liam has been taking in caffeine apprehensively and been puffing cigarettes like a train chugging all day. 

Louis steps out of the manhole, finally breathing in fresh and cool air. He has totally forgotten that he’s been wandering around with only his socks and groans at the coldness of the wet cloth envelops his feet. 

He grabs his shoes off the road and crosses the street quickly. He gets inside the car and starts the engine. He turns on the heater of the car and finishes the cigarette before throwing the butt out the road. 

His phone suddenly rings and he is surprised to see a blocked number calling him. He freezes for a moment and blinks before sliding the phone to answer the call. 

"Did you enjoy the party?" The voice says and Louis blinks because what the actual fuck. 

“Who is this? What are you talking about?” Louis says and he tightens his grip on the wheel. 

This is not the right time for pranks and Louis is not the perfect person to play pranks with. 

"Oh but you have my invitation, how could you not know who I am?" The voice from the other line replies and Louis lets out a breath he doesn't know he's been holding. The detective tenses. He can hear the man giggles from the other line. 

"Wh-what are you talking about? Where are you?" Louis asks and he somewhat feels stupid for asking senseless questions like this. He should be stepping out of his car and doing something but he feels numb and tensed and fuck, is he watching him? 

"You're wonderful, I like you," replies the man and even before Louis can throw something, he hang up, making Louis flare in annoyance. He would've liked it if it was the man who's been ordering nothing but strawberry milkshakes in Niall's pub but no—it is definitely not him. A person as bright as that little moose won't prank him like this. And, how on earth will he know Louis' number, that's crazy. Unless Niall gave it—no way. Besides, his name's Harold and not Harry. 

He tries calling the number, but he couldn't reach it and Louis searches around the area through the windows, looking for someone who's suspicious or someone worth beating the sense out of them because Harry Styles might be around there somewhere. 

Louis hands the phone down on the seat beside him and turns off the heater because it's not cold anymore. The he rage had caused him to get hot and he doesn't remember that he's been shivering from the coldness in his feet and not from Harry Styles who'd just phoned him. 

— 

Because of the wonderful incident, Louis can’t sleep for the next few nights. He grumbles on his desk, searching through files, looking for information about Harry, trying to figure out how to trace the blocked number and if he can contact the person again. 

He'd want to hear the deep voice again, but it's impossible, and futile because what if Harry is as good as his little (almost useless) information. 

It's been two days since the underground party and the blue invitation is lying on Louis' keyboard. He'd been staring at the card for some time now, his coffee totally forgotten as he studies the cursive on the paper. 

Michael reported the findings the next morning after he’d given the instructions and Louis bolted because there were no fingerprints other than the kids who held onto them. No traces, no clues and Liam grunts at how Harry’s brilliance. 

He enjoys cases like this, the one that tests his skills, his patience and his overall character. In the previous town he’s assigned, he did nothing but set all the top most wanted criminals behind bars. His boss loved him for being perfect because the town was forgotten and if not for Louis’ talents, it wouldn’t make it on the newspapers, making him transfer to a bigger town, under Liam’s. 

Louis eyes the ink on the pink paper as if waiting for it to speak when his phone beeps and he grabs it from the desk. 

_It wouldn’t harm you, you know. The invitation, I mean. H_

Louis quirks his eyebrows and checks to see the number. It’s another blocked number and he shakes frantically as another message comes in. 

_Why are you so tensed, detective? H_

He pushes himself off of the chair and stands up, almost knocking the stack of folders. He turns around and peeks outside his office, he looks around, eyes wandering and he baffles because he isn’t sure whose he’s actually looking for. He eyes around the room, he sees Michael stuffing his mouth with bagels; spots Paul typing into the computer, a report on one of the cases he’s handling, possibly; and spots Liam, back hunched like he’s carrying all the problem of the entire world. 

He doesn't see anyone suspicious, but he's just bewildered that the person texting him is as if in the same room he's in. Louis tightens the grip on his phone and turns back inside to get his wallet and coat. 

He steps outside, deciding that now is the right time for a drink or a lunch or whatever it is that will calm him down because, for fuck's sake, this is not a good joke. 

Louis walks out of the building and crosses the street. He settles himself by the bench and stares at the little kids playing football on the field. How he missed having a carefree life, being able to play on the field again, nothing to worry but getting the ball into the goal. 

He pulls out a cigarette from the inside pocket of his coat and flicks the fire on. Louis can almost hear the sound of burning paper from the peacefulness of the environment around him. He puffs out the smoke, like one dragon and closes his eyes, claiming and telling himself to relax. 

He thinks about Harry and how he would look like, he wonders if Harry and Zayn share the same eyes, or features, or do they share the same hobbies, or whatever, just to divert him from thinking about all of Liam’s demands about the Borgata. 

In Liam’s defense, it’s only normal to act like this, especially when Zayn and his soldati enters the scene. It’s normal to get angry and furious (and insane) when the Borgata ruins the peace. But this one is getting into his nerves, Louis might actually die from the intensity of all the emotions Liam is shoving at him. 

His phone rings and Louis snatches it hurriedly, swiping it open and staring at it for a good minute before flicking the unfinished cigarette on the pavement. 

_You should get a proper lunch you know. H_

Louis blinks. 

He doesn't even sure if it is possible, but he punches in his message and quickly presses send. He doesn't even know what made him reply such because he should forward this message to Liam and show him Harry's threats, but he's keeping it to himself, for know. At least. _I am not afraid of you Harry._

Louis rests his feet on the pavement and scans around the park. There’s nothing weird about the area—kids on the field, some dogs with their humans and a man sitting few benches away from him. Louis can’t quite distinguish the man’s face, he only sees a man wearing a big thick grey coat and a fedora hat tilted on his head. 

He doesn’t fail to notice that the fedora hat is a little bit familiar. 

Louis slides the phone open as soon as it buzzes. It is definitely Harry’s text and he darts his brow upward when he reads the text. 

_Too bad, I have to leave. I was hoping you could come to my bench and chat. See you, Louis. :)_

Louis turns furiously to look at the other bench now empty. The man who's been sitting there awhile ago, totally gone, but the fedora hat and Louis walks toward it quickly. He scans around the bench, making sure there's nothing weird on it, (or bomb, and he's not exaggerating, okay). He picks up the fedora hat and feels the material in his hand. It's black. It's soft and Louis turns it to see if there's a strand of hair, or markings that he can bring to the office and have it scanned. 

Unfortunately, there's nothing. Louis places the hat near his face and breathes in the scent. His eyes blinked when he recalls the scent of strawberry and celery through the material. Louis takes another scent and frowns because he knows that smell very well--Niall's cologne. 

He isn't convinced at first, totally shaking the thoughts but when his phone buzzes after some time, he is one-hundred percent sure who Harry is. 

_You can return my hat later. H x_

Louis feels his heart drops in his stomach and he doesn’t even know why. 

— 

It’s already dark when Louis decides to give it a rest. Liam had shoved another tall stack of folders on his table the moment he came back from his lunch break and he groaned at all the crimes the Borgata had committed. 

Louis thinks Zayn Malik is untouchable (aside from the fact that he actually really is). Liam begs to disagree (because the mayor, Mr. Johnson had been bugging him, worried over the re-opening that will happen next month). And Louis wants to flip his table over because Harry is a fucking bastard playing at him. 

He enters the pub, the only place next to his flat that makes his life worth living, (really, he thought being at work should make him happy but with what’s happening right now, he’d rather not think about work) and plasters a wide smile as he spots Niall. He loves that Irish so much that they might have came from the same hip, it’s insane. 

“Oi,” Niall says as he pours Louis cola in a tall glass. “Not letting you on anything alcoholic tonight.” Niall adds flatly and eyes him carefully. 

Louis snorts but reaches for the drink and gulps it in. Niall is staring at him and Louis thinks there is something in his face. He notices that Niall is now gazing at the fedora hat he’s holding and he tightens the grip on the hat consciously. He quirks his brows questioning and Niall’s features tenses, a small frown plastered instead. 

“I hope you’re calm,” Niall says as he wipes the counter top clean and Louis tilts his head as if waiting for Niall to explain himself. The only response he gets is Niall shaking his head and pointing a booth at the corner of the room. 

The booth is anything but empty because there’s a man sitting in it. He looks at Niall like he wants to ask him questions, but Niall waves him off and turns to attend other customers. 

Louis does as he told and walks to the booth, bringing himself to walk properly. He’d only had cola and yet he’s shaking because he knows who’s meeting. Louis continues to stride, listening to the soft music in the background despite people talking and chatting about their works. He tightens the grasp in the fedora hat and can feel that his head is banging because of anxiety. _Jesus Christ_ , this is nerve-wrecking. 

He knows it without a doubt. He’s not stupid. Louis knows that the man waiting for him in the booth is the famous Capo of Zayn Malik. As he takes each step with cautious because what if there are other people around them, part of the Borgata, or even Zayn? What the fuck, _what the actual fuck_? What if Zayn is around? And he thought of treating Niall this morning for lunch because he’s been recently nice and Louis is a mushy towards Niall. And Niall, all this time, is friends with Zayn and _Christ_ he might die tonight. 

Louis breathes in slowly and shakes his shoulders. He’s a detective. He needs not to think nonsensical things because, at least, something very momentous is happening right now. Something of value toward Liam’s tantrums. Something to actually brag in work (and to his pride). 

Louis decides that he should be thankful to Niall, again, and reminds himself to plan whatever he’s getting the Irish after he chats with Harry, or if ever he’ll make it out alive from the booth. 

Louis continues walking until he reaches the last booth and he’s thankful that there are less people in the building, because if something’s bad going to happen, at least there will be less casualties. 

Louis remembers being proclaimed as the youngest detective to solve five cases in just a month. He’s been awarded with a small gold medal that is as big as bottle caps. He didn’t mind it, though. He’s just happy to be of service and to solve cases, because solving mysteries had always been in him ever since he’s a kid. (Not to mention solving his mum’s problem and helping her ditch all men who wronged her.) 

He’s a brilliant young man, Louis thinks, because he knows who the person is. He’d seen him two nights ago and yet he’s shaking. He’s still hopeful that fate would give him a sign, or that once he faced the man in the booth, Harry, Harold or something, he’ll be wrong and _Holy Fuck_. 

“Hi Louis.” 

Louis stands there unable to think, really. Apparently, he’s different like this. Harry, is what Louis means. 

Harry is sitting at the other end of the booth, with his pathetic strawberry milkshake and plate with celery sticks. (Louis rolls his eyes). He’s smiling brightly, beaming like the stars in the sky and Louis thinks he’s being fooled because there’s no way that Harry (or Harold) is a member of the Borgata—a powerful mafia at that. There’s no _fucking_ way that this baby giraffe with the most beautiful green eyes, pink luscious lips, and vibrant porcelain skin is a member of a gang. 

Louis can’t decide whether to pull the gun out of his holster from the side of his torso or sit and act friendly like the Capo is doing towards him. He concludes that the best thing to do is the latter. 

He sits at the end to his side and slides until his comfortable even though, it’s really difficult getting comfortable in this situation. 

“Dinner?” Harry asks and Louis looks at him with questioning eyes. Great, this beautiful stallion is actually asking him if he’s eaten. 

“I thought you would know that already?” Louis counters and sips into his cola. Screw Niall for not serving him his usual beer. “Shouldn’t you be stalking me or something?” 

“I’m not stalking you,” Harry replies and beams that awful, wonderful smile and Louis just wants to smack his head on the table because how the actual fuck is this even possible on happening? 

Louis snorts. “Can I have my hat back?” The detective blinks as Harry eyes him. He looks at the hat on his lap and feels a sweat creeping down at the back of his neck. He shakes his head and Harry tilts his head in confusion. 

“I’m not giving it back to you,” Louis replies, grasping into it tightly. “Besides, I don’t have it.” He lies. He’s got to look convincing because if there’s one thing Louis is not good at, that’s lying. 

Harry smiles and takes the straw in his lips. He sips his drink and pouts after because Louis is looking cruelly at him. “Why didn’t you bring it?” 

“I need to run tests to see who owns it,” Louis replies and he can feel his arse getting numb, because that ha got to be the stupidest excuse ever in history of his career. 

Harry nods while stuffing a celery piece in his mouth, “But that’s my hat, and you know who I am. So you don’t need it anymore, right?” 

Fucking great you are Louis. 

Harry smiles, the ranch making a mess at the corner of his mouth and damn, Louis, _damn_. Louis wants to wipe it clean for him and he wants to spill the cola above his head because this is just insane. 

Louis coughs and drinks the remaining content of the glass. “Why are you here?” 

Harry swallows the vegetable, “I’m friends with Niall. I can be wherever I want, _Lewis_.” 

“Are you not afraid? I can call you in, especially right now.” 

“You could but you _didn’t_.” 

Louis bites his bottom lip because he’s just making a fool of himself right in front of Harry and this is just pathetic. Harry is being impossible, it’s hurting his pride and intelligence. 

Harry smiles, like of a feline and Louis gulps because no matter how he beams, he still looks wonderful, it’s terrible. Harry raises his arms and shows it to Louis. Louis looks at him questioningly and Harry beams wider, his eyes crinkling, dimples showing and fighting the laughter from his lips. 

“What are you doing?” 

“I’m surrendering,” Harry retorts, his smile impossibly bright, it’s making a pain in Louis’ guts. 

“What?” 

“You need me behind bars, right? So cuff me, I’ll surrender.” 

Louis eyes him and the fedora on his lap. He lets out a distressed sigh and hands it over to Harry. Harry blinks and lays his arms down. He takes the hat and looks at Louis shyly. 

“I thought you didn’t have it with you,” Harry says and Louis rolls his eyes. 

“I already know who the person is, what’s the use?” 

“Aren’t you going to handcuff me?” Harry asks as he finishes his shake and leans near the table, his face, this time is closer to Louis’ view. Louis can see the perfect eyes folded in his gorgeous face and Louis still can’t believe that this man is a threat and a big asset for the Borgata. It’s…it’s shit. 

Louis grumbles. 

Harry smiles. He leans closer to Louis and pecks him quickly on the cheek. Louis freezes, it’s funny because he feels his cheeks getting warm but his hands are cold. He looks Harry in the eyes while the Capo presses a piece of paper in one of his cold hand. Harry closes Louis’ fist and pushes back. He wears the hat and walks out of the booth. He hears him bid goodbye to Niall who replies with his Irish laugh. 

— 

_112 A Trueman Bldg. 9 AM Tomorrow_

Louis hates himself. He hates himself for calling in sick at work and standing outside an abandoned building right in front of him. He shouldn’t be doing this but he actually is and he’s fully aware that Liam is furious and upset all at the same time because he’s running away from solving the case. 

He sighs as he fixes his grey jumper and the holster underneath the blazer. The black blazer would’ve been fine if not for the cold weather, hence the coat. He pulls out a cigarette and lights it on as he wanders his eyes around the area. 

This is one of the peaceful neighbourhood in town and Louis thinks that Borgata soldati love living in peaceful places too. He looks around to see if Harry’s already near because he’s feeling funny and confused and mad for going her and forgetting that the building is actually an abandoned one. 

Louis finishes his cigarette and throws it on the ground. He enters the building, careful not to destroy the yellow line of ‘Police No entry’. He’s going mad, really. Every step he takes on the staircase, his mind screams _go back go back go back_ in loop, it’s splitting his head into two. He wonders if Harry will actually appear or he’s just playing a prank at him. 

He’s right in front of the door. 112. He’s certain that this is building A and he’s no doubt, hundred percent sure that this is Truman Bldg. He looks at his watch, only a few seconds before 9. He fixes his coat, making sure the gun is in his holster (which is a bit stupid because why check only now?). He fixes his hair, his fringe hanging on his forehead. He hadn’t had enough sleep that he’s not really sure how he looks like in the morning without drinking his daily dosage of caffeine. 

Louis breathes in and opens the door. It’s empty and old. It’s a studio room with wide windows and Louis carefully steps inside, closing the door behind and scanning the place. He’s surprised at the man already waiting for him. He spots Harry at the corner, sitting on the small single couch, reading a book. He’s wearing a maroon jumper with stitches of flowers and vines. He’s wearing brown trousers and Louis can see how long his legs are. Definitely, a baby giraffe. 

He looks at Louis and flashes a wide smile. Louis’ feels his heart skip a beat. 

“You came!” 

“I did,” Louis replies unsurely as he stands by the door and looks at Harry with a careful gaze. 

Harry gets up, closes the book and places it on the chair. The place is dusty and Louis wonders how Harry can stay in here. There’s a small table set at the centre of the room, with a teapot and two cups. Louis can see from where he’s standing the smoke coming from the mouth of the teapot. He notices biscuits behind the teapot and can’t stop his stomach from grumbling. 

“Breakfast?” 

Louis nods shamelessly and hears Harry squeak a small ‘yay!’ as the both approach the table and take a seat on the chair on the side of the table. Louis slouches on the chair as he stares out the window. Harry pours him a drink and offers some biscuits. Louis takes on of the bear-shaped almond cookie and drinks his tea. 

It’s bloody hell, is what it is. Louis shouldn’t be having teatime with the enemy. He shouldn’t be enjoying this but when he looks at Harry, his mind screams _it’s okay it’s okay it’s okay, he’s pretty_ and he thinks he’ll die right now right there. 

Minutes of silence had passed and Louis decides (after two cups of tea) that it’s about time to do something. He puts the cup on the table and he is surprised when Harry starts talking. 

“The bay will be having a re-opening next month, am I right?” 

Louis looks at him and nods. “He wants us to double the security because—“ Louis stops and bites the inside of his mouth. Why is he telling all of these to the enemy? 

Harry give a small smile and leans against the backrest. He looks outside the window and folds his hands on his lap. 

“The mayor’s going to smuggle drugs, he’ll conduct a re-opening as diversion from the drugs coming from the town. The money will arrive on the same day,” Harry tells him and Louis listens. “Of course, it won’t be just money. There will be women and children too, as payment. Human trafficking, that is. 

“He’s been doing this for several months now and because he’s powerful, the police didn’t bother on checking up on him. Of course you wouldn’t know.” Harry looks at Louis, eyes serious and Louis can’t make himself speak because Harry looks like he’s telling the truth. 

“It’s be an exchange of trades. Drugs. And payment, abducted kids and women for trafficking. Money. And Grimshaw had made a big sell this year that he’ll be receiving a big pot for it.” 

Louis looks at Harry, strained and confused. Is he telling the truth? He looks like he’s being serious, but the Borgata’s been enemies with the mayor for years now, it might be some shite lie and Louis wouldn’t take chances. 

“You’re lying,” Louis says as he stands up quickly, almost knocking the table and chinaware. “The mayor wouldn’t do that. He’s a good man. You’re the bad guy.” 

Harry looks at him, his eyes calm but fiery and Louis wishes Harry would smile. He prefers the dimples over the stoical. Louis takes a step back and Harry is rigid in his chair. 

“I wasted my time for this,” Louis retorts and Harry remains silent. “You bastard, you’re lying.” He should be handcuffing Harry now, or pointing a gun at him but Louis can’t because he is still willing to listen. Damn it. This is terribly wrong. 

Harry scoffs and stands up as well. He walks towards the book he’s been holding a while ago and picks it up. Harry goes back and stuffs the book in Louis’ stomach. 

“Here’s the list of all people abducted in town. Every single one one of them,” Harry says and Louis takes the book. He eyes Harry and something terrible bubbles inside him. Not trusting his mouth for whatever might come out, he leaves the room as quickly as he can. 

He wants to believe in Harry because something weird is happening and at the same time he can’t, because _fuck_ , he works for the mayor. He’s enemies with the Borgata, isn’t he? He is! 

Harry sighs as the door bangs close and marches toward the window to see Louis’ figure walking down the street. He sees the detective getting in his car and dashing off. 

“Do you think he’ll believe in everything you said?” Harry doesn’t need to look because he knows all too well that voice. 

“I don’t know. Perhaps?” 

Zayn appear from the other room and walks beside him. Zayn had his hair in a quiff, his jaw covered with stubbles. His black and red dress coat hanging on his shoulders. 

“It’s the truth anyway,” Zayn says as he settles on one of the chairs and grabs a biscuit. 

Harry turns to face Zayn and smiles, “He’ll believe us. I’m sure of it.” 

Zayn makes a sound and Harry glares at him. “You baboon! Look at your boots!” 

Zayn turns to look at the wooden floor and scoffs at Harry. “The room is dusty already, so fuck it.” 

Harry makes a baby growl and Zayn laughs as he takes another cookie. He gets up from his seat and eyes Harry. “Be careful Harry,” Zayn says as he cleans his pants from crumbles. “He’s still the detective. He might do something—he might hurt you.” 

Harry nods and looks at his watch. “I need to protect Emily. I don’t want to happen what happened to our sisters again. I’m scared we won’t be powerful enough.” 

Zayn understands and steps near Harry to give him a hug. Zayn shares the same pain, the same loss, and the same hatred towards Grimshaw. They’ll do anything in their power to stop this. Harry has Emily to take care for. Harry needs Louis to help them end Grimshaw. 

“I know,” Zayn says and Harry tightens the hug before breaking off. “And I’m thankful that you’re back, just in time for the re-opening. I’m glad you’re here with us, the clan.” 

“Of course, I couldn’t let this one pass. And I’ve missed Emily.” 

Zayn pats his head and Harry beams before raising his wrist and shaking the watch in front of Zayn. “I promise to pick her up today, shall we?” 

“Zayn shakes his head and Harry nods. “Meeting. I’ll meet you later instead, yeah? We can have dinner, the three of us.” 

“That sounds great, I’ll cook your favourite,” Harry tells him and they both step out of the room where two men in black tuxedos are waiting for them. 

— 

Louis curses. It’s been two days since he last saw Harry and there were no messages from him. 

He’s been scanning the book and looking for names to match in their records. He’s found most of them, but not everyone. There are tons of girls and children in the book that it makes Louis want to throw up. 

All of the people were recorded as lost and never found. Some records has indicated ‘rape’ in it but it’s too vague. There were no reports of rape after that. No traces—no nothing. 

Louis gulps his third cup that afternoon and freezes when he turns the book on the page of five years ago. There are pictures of three girls who has a resemblance with each other. Louis looks at the bottom part to see their names. 

“Waliyha Malik, Safaa Malik, Doniya Malik.” 

Louis’ eyes widen in surprise and looks at the record. As expected, there were nothing aside from ‘Abducted’. He looks at their own record of the three girls and tries to search but failed. He’s surprised that they don’t have a file for what happened to the sisters of Zayn Malik. 

They should at least have a record, Louis thinks, because this is troubling. Girls had been gone missing for the last years and the police has an incomplete record for all of this. The Borgata has a better nick for keeping files. 

Louis shuffles in his seat, his door is closed shut and he doesn’t give a fuck on the rustling outside his office because he thinks this is more important than anything else. 

He flips to the next page, a list of girls abducted four years ago. 

_Gemma Styles_

Louis frowns at the picture of a beautiful lass, with eyes the same as Harry’s and long blond hair. 

Is this why Harry’s been this open? Is this why Harry’s been out front and honest to spill everything because a relative has been abducted? Is he serious with the mayor’s doing? Louis breathes deeply, his lungs might wear out. 

His mind is spinning, his thoughts are rabid and his head is hurting because there’s no way he’d side with the wrong people. And right now, he doesn’t even know who the bad guy is. 

— 

It’s 3 in the afternoon when Louis decides to contact Harry after three days of isolating himself in his office, ignoring Liam’s complains and thinking about the abduction and the Borgata. 

He clears his desk and decides to call it a day. He turns off his computer, steps out of the office and swings the coat over his shoulder. Liam is in a middle of a meeting with the mayor today so he can pass by easily, Paul and Michael wouldn’t give a damn about him because they’re too busy with their own cases. 

Louis gets inside the car and pulls out his phone. He punches a quick message and sends it to Harry. _Meet me @ the pub? Rn._ He finds it weird because 1) he’s texting a blocked number, 2) he’s texting Harry (a member of the Borgata) and; 3) Harry actually replied. Oh.

_Can’t. meet me @ 6th Ave instead? near the red-bricked bldg. be there in 15 :) H x_

Louis finds it weird again because 4) Harry isn’t using a blocked number anymore, but his personal number, 5) Harry has the guts to answer him and order him around 6) he’s actually smiling that Harry replied (and no one needs to know, even Harry!) and: 7) Louis doesn’t fail to notice the ‘x’ that made his tummy tumble a small twirl. 

Louis is _screwed_. 

— 

Louis parks along 6th Avenue. He might do some walking just to shake the tension away because he’s going to see Harry again, and it can be considered as a bad thing, a crime even, against the police—against him. 

He spots the building Harry is referring a few blocks away. He wears his coat and locks the door. He fixes his holster underneath his coat and shakes his limbs before taking a step. 

It took him seconds to realise that the bricked building Harry is referring is preschool. He gets inside the open area and spots Harry on one of the benches with a little girl in his lap. 

Louis wants to be eaten alive because Harry looks beautiful and the little girl is just showing his features even more. He looks calm and mesmerising with a kid in his arms. The girl is telling stories, about her day, probably and Harry reacts at the right time. He can hear the shrieks of the child from afar and he feels his heart tightens at how peaceful this looks right now. 

The kids have dashed to their parents and school buses and yet those two looked like they didn’t care. Harry is laughing as the little girl raises her little fists, probably narrating one of her baby fights. 

Louis bites the insides of his mouth. He can’t be thinking these things. It’s stupid and…he’s afraid that he might starting to actually like it. 

Harry notices him and Louis tries not to smile but failed. Harry scoops the little girl as he gets up. The girl lets out a shrill laugh and Harry pinches her nose as they approach Louis. 

“Hey,” Harry greats and the little girl looks at Louis. Louis looks at her. Her eyes are brown, hair blonde and tied in pigtails that had gone loose and, her dimples showing just like Harry’s. 

“Hey yourself,” Louis replies, fighting off the grin threatening to show. Harry is staring at him and Louis thinks they could do that forever because _Christ_ , Harry is just gorgeous. 

Little hands press on Harry’s cheeks and Harry blinks back to the kid in his arms. “Oh, I forgot. Louis, this is Emily. Emily, this is Louis.” 

Emily reaches out her short arm and Louis takes it. He shakes Emily’s arm lightly and Emily grins, her dimples showing. “Hello Uncle _Lewey_.” 

Both men shake their heads and laugh at Emily’s adorableness. 

“Is uncle Lewey going to join for dinner?” 

Louis blinks and looks at Harry. He doesn’t expect the kid to warm up at him quickly. Harry gives an apologetic smile but Louis shakes it off. 

“Do you want me to join you for dinner?” Louis asks. Emily beams at him and Louis knew he’d pulled the trigger that might actually destroy his career. 

“Yes please. Papa, can Uncle Lewey join for dinner?” 

Louis blinks a little more and Harry looks at Emily with much glee. “If Louis wants to sweetie,” is his reply and Emily looks at Louis, flashing her wide smile. Louis’ heart just melts and who can’t say no to that? 

“Would you like to eat dinner with us Uncle Lewey?” Emily asks, her head tilted to the side. She sucks her thumb after asking and eyes Louis with her big brown orbs. She pulls out her thumb and leans near toward Louis, Harry had to hold her tightly so she won’t fall. 

“Papa can cook you your favourite,” Emily says and Harry closes his eyes at how cute Emily is in persuading. 

“Really?” Louis says and Emily nods. Harry mouths a _sorry_ and Louis just grins. Louis shouldn’t be grinning but he can’t help it. He can’t just handcuff someone in the presence of a kid, can he? 

“I like pizza,” Louis replies and Emily looks at Harry. “…with lots and lots of meat and no veggies.” 

Emily laughs and shakes her head, “Papa said veggies are important too Uncle Lewey.” She covers her moth with her small hands acting like she’s shocked but can’t herself stop from laughing as if Louis had said something crazy. 

Harry smiles too and shakes his head. “We can make different pizza for you and for Uncle Louis.” 

Emily claps and squirms in Harry’s arms in excitement. Louis laughs and Harry breathes in embarrassment. 

“Shall we?” Harry asks and Louis gives him a it’s-okay-I’m-going-to-be-normal-I-swear look and Harry just smiles because if his kid wants Louis to join them for dinner then Harry has to oblige. 

“Did you bring your car?” Harry asks as he settles Emily down. He takes Emily’s hand and they start walking. Louis walks at the other side of Emily, watching her every now and then. 

“It’s parked there, two blocks away,” Louis replies and Harry nods, “What about you guys?” 

“We just commute, actually,” Harry replies and Louis wonders how a powerful and wealthy man like Harry Styles be riding the bus to pick up his child. Shouldn’t he have a driver and expensive car for them to go wherever they want? 

“I can give you a lift,” Louis says and Emily looks up at him. “I mean, of course, I’ll be having dinner with you. I mean.” 

“You talk funny Uncle Lewey,” Emily says and Harry laughs. 

— 

They arrived in Harry’s house and Louis scanned the wonderful house. He insisted on carrying the bags from their quick trip in the supermarket. Harry had asked for what he’d wanted for his pizza while Emily picked veggies, terrible veggies, in Louis’ opinion, for her and Harry’s. Louis was then dragged to the frozen section and Emily persuaded him, yet again, to grab a tub of chocolate cookie dough ice cream to be eaten after pizza. She reasoned that today is Friday and Harry lets her eat ice cream while watching the telly on Fridays. 

Louis just find it hard to say no to the little girl. 

Emily has been asleep by the time they arrived home. Louis grabs the two bags while Harry carries Emily. 

“The kitchen’s next to the living room, you’ll see it,” Harry tells him. Louis nods as he closes the front door. Harry heads upstairs cradling Emily in his arms. 

When he walks down the hall, he spots the kitchen and places the bags atop the marble counters. 

The house is undeniably wonderful. The theme’s a mixture of Bohemian and hippie. The tables are made of shard coloured glasses turned into an abstract mosaic. There are two big couches in the living room. A small dining area separates the kitchen from the living room. 

Louis spots two tall and wide bookshelves at the other side of the room. He reads through the selection of books. From Poe to Jung, a collection of different literature, different courses and selection of fiction. He spots one part filled with photo albums and tugs one album off the shelf. 

He flips it open and sees a picture of Harry and (assumedly) his family. Harry’s hair is blonde and straight as a kid. His cheeks chubby and nose pinched cutely. Louis smiles widely at the little Harry. He flips it again and sees a picture of Gemma. He frowns for a bit because it just made him recall the reason he’s meeting Harry. 

Harry leans against the wall to watch Louis flipping through pages, letting him see this side of him. The side he’s been missing for a while. 

Harry’s parents died in a car accident few years back leaving Gemma and him on their own. Gemma took care of him. Money was difficult and but they managed to make it through tough times. 

It wasn’t until Gemma’s been raped at her workplace. Harry is in his lat year at the university when Emily came into their life. Gemma loved Emily and Harry has been there to support his sister. 

They were buying groceries. Harry was carrying Emily in his arms, nestled in the blankets while Gemma pushed the cart. Harry was teasing Gemma about bananas as they headed to the fruit section. It happened quickly. Gemma was picking some lime for their dinner that night. He’d asked Harry to ask for some rice. When Harry returned to where Gemma was, she was gone. 

He panicked and searched through aisles, asked if they’d seen her. He dashed outside the supermarket and bumped into Zayn. Harry knows who Zayn was. Zayn’s parents had been friends with his parents. Harry told him that Gemma’s missing and Zayn ordered his men to search for Grimshaw’s men. 

They didn’t find her. Harry was devastated and Zayn offered to help Harry in raising Emily. 

“Help me prepare?” Harry says suddenly and Louis shuts the album close. 

“How long have you been standing there?” Louis asks and Harry laughs. 

“Long enough to figure that you got a crush on Gemma,” Harry replies and heads toward the kitchen. 

Louis rolls his eyes, smiling at Harry’s laughter. “I don’t have a crush on Gemma!” 

— 

“Uncle Lewey,” Emily says, her voice little and squeaky. “Can I have juice please?” 

Louis reaches for the pitcher beside him and pours Emily’s plastic cup. It’s been surprisingly marvellous. Domestic. 

Louis helped Harry to make pizzas for all three of them. Louis stuffed pepperoni and ground beef on his while Harry prepared half-meat-mostly-veggies on his and Emily’s. They talked about everything they can figured and felt comfortable discussing. 

They talked about pets, sports, hobbies and Louis is thankful that Harry didn’t open the issue on work because that would just make his already messed up mind, even more complicated. Emily woke up in the middle of their pizza making and helped by tossing flour on Louis and Harry’s hair. 

Harry smiled at them as he took a small bite of his pizza. Emily told stories in her school, the friends she’d made and how good she is in painting and twirling. Louis nodded at all of them, listening to her with two ears. 

When they were done with dinner, Louis offered to help in cleaning. Harry shook his head and instead, took the ice cream out of the fridge and passed it to Louis. Emily pulled him to the living room to watch telly. 

By the time Harry’s done with washing the dishes, he headed to the living room and was surprised at what he saw. Emily is leaning on Louis’ chest while Louis is sitting on the couch with his legs stretched. He knew Emily has been good with people since she had to interact with different people everyday but he’s surprised that Louis and she had gotten along so easily. 

Instead of joining, he went back to the kitchen and prepared tea. When he came back, the show’s already done and Emily’s already asleep on Louis’ chest. 

Harry walks beside the couch and Louis looks up at him, “I couldn’t wake her up. She’s too cute.” 

“I’ll get her to bed, can you wait for me?” Harry says and Louis nods. When Harry has gone upstairs, Louis lets out a yawn he’d been keeping the moment Harry popped in the living room. He turns off the telly, fixes the couch and its pillows and, clears the coffee table. He goes back to the kitchen to wash the spoons he and Emily used for eating the ice cream. He sees the tray with two mug filled with tea. He takes one mug and breathes in the wonderful scent. 

Everything feels surprisingly domestic, it’s starting to scare him. 

“Sorry about that,” Harry peeps in and Louis places his mug down the table. 

“It’s all right,” Louis replies and Harry picks up the other mug. Harry motions toward the living room and Louis follows him. 

They settle on the couch and Harry sips in his tea while Louis rubs the back of his neck. 

“Well-“ “I-“ They speak at the same time and Louis finds himself laughing. Harry blushes and looks at the mug instead. 

“You go first,” Louis says and Harry bites the bottom of his lip. 

“Emily is not mine,” Harry says and Louis looks at him. 

“You better not be lying at me again, Harold,” Louis retorts and Harry makes a huffed sound. 

“I did not lie,” Harry replies with a smile. “Besides, my name’s Harry.” 

“Oh really?” Louis jerks and Harry throws a pillow at him. 

“I thought you’re letting me to speak first?” 

Louis grins and looks at Harry. 

It’s just a quick look in the eye and Louis curses at how Harry’s eyes had turned into a beautiful shade of green. 

“She’s Gemma’s daughter. Emily,” Harry says and Louis nods while he leans against the couch and listens to Harry. 

“Have you seen through the files?” 

“I’ve seen it all,” Louis replies and Harry looks at him. 

“So, Papa?” 

“Well, yeah, it just happened, you know?” Harry reasons and he looks at Louis who’s staring at him concerned. He’s holding the mug in his hands, warming his palms. Harry looks at Louis fringe and can’t help but smile. He reaches for Louis’ fringe while Louis freezes because having Harry near him is making him like a rock. His mind stops functioning. 

“You have flour on your hair,” Harry explains and Louis nods, seeing the taint of red across Harry’s cheeks. 

Louis lets out a yawn and Harry smiles while caressing his palm against Louis’ cheek. “I should probably go,” Louis says and Harry nods as he reaches for the empty mug in Louis’ hands. 

Harry accompanies Louis to the door. He takes a step but before getting inside the car he turns to face Harry who looks at him fondly. 

“Hey,” Louis begins as he shifts his weight from one foot to another. “I-I don’t know exactly yet, okay? I still need reasons. I still need to figure this one, because I’m clearly overwhelmed with everything. And I—“ 

“I don’t care whatever your decision is Louis. All I want is to protect my daughter because I’m scared what happened to Gemma and the rest of those girls will happen—“ 

“That’s why I’m telling you that let me clear things up. Let me figure this, yeah?” Louis cuts him because nobody cuts Louis while he’s talking. Harry blinks and pushes himself off the doorframe. 

“Louis?” 

“I mean, yeah. I mean, I don’t really know, but when I was reading and searching through our records, only half of the list in the binder you gave have a copy in our records. Zayn’s sisters and Gemma’s are not in our records. I don’t know what it means or if it means anything but, let me figure it out, yeah? Let me seek answers. 

“I don’t want to happen this again. I understand what you fell…just let me handle this, yeah?” Louis says and he looks at Harry who smiles at him. 

He isn’t expecting what happens next because he’s too busy staring at the green orbs gazing at him when Harry leans down to press as soft kiss on his lips. Louis just stays there and for a moment, Louis thinks everything is just tremendous.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I screwed too, just like Louis. Forgive me for updating late. I didn't abandon this fic. I just caught up with work, family and problems--yes, life. I don't know when I can update again, but here it is, the second chapter of Holding on the You. Hope you enjoy reading this one. 
> 
> Tell me your thoughts about it. xxxxx!

There are times when Louis is lifted off from handling the Borgata. He figured it had something to do with Liam’s meeting two days ago. 

He is surprised to bump into a new face, fresh from university, is what the man looks like it and an awfully wide grin plastered on his face. Louis bridges his brows and smiles at the young lad before him. The boy with messy hair smiles widely in return, showing an arm and asking for Louis for his. Louis reaches out, his other hand tucked in his pocket. 

“I’m Matt,” Matt says energetically, like a little boy brought to a store filled with toys. “I just got here. ’S my first job in an actual office, nice meeting you, uh, _Lewis_?” 

“Yeah. ’S me, Louis, it’s _Louis_. Like French.” Louis thinks he’ll like the kid but then again, just wait for a few weeks—days, even and he’ll be wiping that smile off his face and replace it with frowns which will be never-ending. “Yeah, Louis. That’s me,” Louis retorts as he pulls his hand away and Matt nods before shuffling the folders in his armpits and strides away when he hears Michael call for him. 

“Louis!” Liam shouts from his office and Louis walks in quickly. He eyes Liam, sitting on his big black cushioned spinning chair who asked him to sit on the wooden seats across the desk. Louis loosens the holster around his shoulders and looks at Liam who pushes a brown envelope towards him. 

“The mayor asked for you,” Liam says and Louis slouches on the seat after opening the envelope and looking in it. “He said he wanted to meet the leader on the Borgata case. And he meant, the person who’s actually in charge on the dynamics of it.” 

“Couldn’t face him for too long?” Louis says and he looks at the blueprint in his hand. It’s the blueprint of the port. Other paper contained print outs of the activities, the invited guests and the number of policemen asked to be present on that day. “My, my _Leeyum_ thought the chief should handle these things?” 

Liam chuckles flatly and Louis hates it when Liam’s being like a boring sponge, releasing things blandly. 

“He personally asked for you, Louis,” Liam replies simply. Louis knows Liam wants to be the one involved in cases like these. He is the chief, after all. However, he wonders what’s the reason behind the mayor’s sudden need for him to be present. Liam is still quiet when they heard a knock on the doorframe and Liam breaks his gaze from Louis to the man standing outside his office. 

“Ah, Ken!” Liam greets as he motions the man to get inside and take a seat. 

“You made it,” Liam tells the man and Louis nods at Ken who’d eyed him from his golden fringe down to his leather shoes. Only Harry does that (okay, and Emily), and he finds it unpleasant when someone else’s doing that besides the father and daughter he’s fallen in—what no. No? 

“Pleased to meet you,” Ken greets and Louis reaches out a hand. 

“He’ll be your partner now, Louis.” 

_Screw it. I work alone._ Louis must have had it on his face because Liam gave him a look and for a while he felt uncomfortable. 

There’s nothing wrong with Ken, in all honesty. He seems, okay. Like normal _okay_. He looks reserved and fit and yet, no matter how appealing Ken looks, he prefers to work solo. Having a partner means dragging one another to places, to situations and to annoyance until both of you have swallowed shite and had enough that you want to break apart. 

Unless of course Ken is nice and as wonderful as he looks, then Louis might have no problems with it. He stares at Ken whose smile is soft and eyes grey and hair styled on a light quiff. His holster is loose and Louis wonders how the hell can Ken be qualified enough to work with him, he’s like training a kid. A popstar turned police. 

Ken nods at him and Louis quirks his eyebrows when his phone suddenly buzzes. He pulls it out from his back pocket and slides it open, not even minding he’s in a meeting with Liam and this new guy Ken. 

**Harold:** _Uncle Lewey, look!_

Louis stares at the photo of little Emily wearing a big Manchester United shirt that almost looks like a dress on he. It’s the team’s red uniform with big white AON letters on. She’s wearing a match of red track shoes with matching knee-high socks and white shorts. She’s plastering a wide gummy grin—her eyes crinkling, dimples showing and arms stretching like she’s waving and forgetting that it’s a snapshot and not a video record. 

It’s been two days since Louis barged into their home for a friendly dinner. (It is a friendly dinner, Louis keeps telling himself over the weekend.) Harry informed him that Emily was looking for him the next day, wondering why he didn’t sleep over. Harry called him (and Louis likes it that Harry is contacting him using his personal number now) and told him about his daughter’s whining. Apparently, Louis had promised Emily to play football sometime, and Emily took sometime as the morning next day. 

Louis spent his weekend going to work, locking himself in the archives section of their records’ area at the basement to jot down everything he can collect about the abduction. He looked for files and was shocked to find some cases that concerns Nick Grimshaw even before he was elected mayor. 

It’s nothing big really, like drug addiction (and his political party had done a great deal on preventing it from slipping to the public) and some reports of drunk driving. Turns out that behind a seemingly responsible and disciplined Grimshaw is a hyena on the loose. 

He managed to bring home some records with him, and his flat looked like an extension of the files he’d been reading—from all the girls abducted to the Borgata. (He might have found one file at the bottom of the drawer with labeled with ’S’ and found a folder of **Styles** in it. He might have actually took it with him and kept it under his pillow because he’d want it for himself. He’s researching, he reasons his conscience.) 

Louis worked like a madman and drank tons of coffee and puffed cigarettes nonstop to find reasons, to look for answers because the way Harry had told him everything and everything he told Harry is real. He wanted to end this. (He might have actually started to like Harry and, like, really _really_ like him.) 

Whenever he felt like stopping, taking a pause for while, getting into a standstill, he would press two digits on his lips and caressed the thin pale lips, as if recalling how it felt when had Harry kissed him. 

It happened so sudden that Louis can’t fathom on how to stop it—his feelings, that is. It’s almost impossible to not hate Harry. It’s so impossible that it’s making him forget his position in the society and keep in mind that he’s a detective. He’s smitten. And it’s terrible. It has only been a week, give or take, and yet, he’s totally over Harry, it’s insane. Fuck. He’s in _too_ deep. 

And then there’s Emily. Little Emily that makes him fall for Harry even more because he can’t help but be upset at the idea of losing this cute little girl that follows Harry like a puppy. Her green eyes (just like her dad’s), dimples (just like her dad’s, _yet again_ ) and her twirly cutesy personality (that she must’ve taken from her dad. Yep! No doubt). 

And she sent him a photo of herself preparing for school. He finds it weird and adorable at the same time. He and Harry both adore Man U and seeing their little girl fancying it too, is just wonderful. Wait, _their_ little girl? Now, where did that come from? 

Louis is smiling like a dork that Liam eyes him for a while, disturbed at the way Louis is grinning at his phone. 

“Careful now, your face is going to split into two,” Liam teases and Ken remains silent. 

“Oh fuck off,” Louis retorts. He turns off his phone and glares at Liam. He gets up and walks toward the door when Liam halts him. 

“Don’t forget. City Hall. Bring Ken with you.” 

Ken nods before stepping behind Louis and they both step out of the room. They still have time and Louis wants to relax in his office for a while. He is about to face Ken when Ken answers his phone and smiles a small, curl of the lips at him before speeding out the building. Louis thinks it must be utterly important so he ignored it and headed back in his office. 

He fills his mug with joe before settling on his chair and fishing the phone from his pocket. He swipes it open to read another message (definitely from Emily) that he ignored awhile ago. 

_Sorry, Em got excited wearing her footie outfit. ordered me to sent you a photo x_

Louis’ face softens and he can’t really decide because he’s unquestionably fallen for Harry. And it’s wrong because _he’s_ Harry, yet at the same time, correct because he just wants to protect Emily and…he’s punching a reply and quickly hitting send. _lil Man U girl, dad mustve been proud :)_

He hides his phone in his pocket while reaches for the mug. He glances at his watch before reading through emails from his subscriptions and the news. He’s been reading updates when he hears a knock on his door. Ken stands by the frame, giving him a small smile and Louis nods. He grabs his coat and they both head to the City Hall of meet Grimshaw. 

— 

“Mister Mayor,” Louis says and Grimshaw waves at him. He flashes his snarky smile and fixes his blazer before getting up and reaching out a hand. 

“Ah the famous Detective Louis.” 

“Barely, sir,” Louis replies humbly and steps inside followed by Ken. Nick sits back, reclining his seat to reach for a tobacco in one of his drawers. He lights it on and offers Louis a stick. Louis shakes his head and smiles instead. Nick turns to Ken who ignores him. 

“Liam told me you wanted to discuss the plan for the re-opening at the port in three weeks.” 

“I did. I want to personally talk to person in charge of Zayn Malik’s head.” 

Louis’ face stiffens because he’d never thought of doing such thing with the Capo dei Capi. He just want him behind bars, as far as the law is concerned. Nick flicks the tobacco in the ash tray and licks his lips. 

“Any news about Harry Styles?” Nick asks suddenly as he presses a button on the phone. Louis tenses and he notices how Ken is eyeing him forwardly. Nick is doing the same and Louis feels like being trapped in a room. For the record, Ken should be in his side and not Grimshaw’s. 

It would mean him nothing because Harry Styles is part of a mafia gang, he’s the enemy. However, because of his impossible feelings for him, he can’t help but feel threatened and slowly, his mind, prioritising who he should take side to, is breaking into two. It’s hell. Fucking hell. 

“Please bring me the blueprints for the re-opening,” Nick says to the receiver and releases the small button before he settles comfortably on his chair. 

“Have you found enough information about Zayn’s stepbrother?” 

Louis eyes Nick, careful not to glare because Nick definitely knows something. He stares at Nick for sometime, careful not to spill it. He can be as intimidating as he wants to be. Besides, how would he know that he’s tasked to search on Harry? Liam may have mentioned this to him but there’s no way Nick should pay mind on this if he really wants to the re-opening go smoothly. 

Nick’s actions may prove to show that he’s behind something nasty. He might know who Harry is, and if he does, then Louis doesn’t show his panic starting to rise. He can’t just spread there open, reveal and make it obvious that he’s in love—what? No! At least, he’s taking sides with Harry. Okay fine, he’s in love with he Curly. Yes, he’s admitting it, he’s in love with that baby giraffe and the way Nick sneers is as terrifying as he’d imagined. 

The door opens and Nick’s secretary comes in carrying folded blueprints of the port. Nick grabs it from her arms and spreads it open on the desk. 

They discussed it throughly, listening to Nick’s requests. Ken was silent, but Louis tasked him to jot down the minutes while he chat with the mayor. 

It took them two hours jotting all the plan, fixing the schedules, figuring out best options just in case the Borgata would amuse them or something. For awhile, Louis worked in the side’s of the police. In that moment, he worked how he can save the captured girls and stop the drug-dealing under his actions by portraying he wants nothing but the success of the re-opening. 

“I must say,” Nick says as he brings the cup of tea in his lips. “I think this sounds like a plan.” 

Louis just shrugs and feels his phone vibrate again. He fights the urge to slide it open. Instead, he reaches for his coat and looks at Nick. 

“I need to get going Sir Mayor,” Louis explains. He fixes his holster underneath and runs a hand on his fringe. “I’ll get to you once we’ve updated the number of men available and roads agreed to close.” 

Nick only shrugs because he has some other things to deal with. He smiles and Louis nods before opening the door and looks at Ken. 

“If you leave us for a mo?” Nick says all of a sudden and Louis blinks because as far as he’s concerned, Ken was just hired a few hours ago. He shakes the thought and nods before looking at Ken. 

“I hope you don’t mind, but I’ll be heading out ahead. Will you be alright going back on your own?” Louis asks and Ken nods quickly. 

Louis scoffs and steps out of the room. He walks out of the building only to be surprised by Emily and Harry? 

Emily is standing right in front of the city hall with Harry standing beside her. They’re eating ice cream and Emily almost drops the cone when she sees Louis walking down the stairs. 

Louis blinks and carefully eyes the area before paying his attention towards the little girl. Louis is literally _screwed_. He doesn’t know things had escalated quickly and wait! what! wait! Louis, relax. This is not what it is. Calm down. 

How does Harry know where Louis is, anyway? 

Emily is jumping on her place and Harry beams as he licks his choice swirl ice cream. Louis grins back, runs a hand on his hair and lets out a sigh before walking towards the two. 

Emily lets go of Harry’s hand. She’s still wearing her Man U shirt and Louis just wants to squeeze this cherub cheeks just like her dad’s. Her pigtails are a bit loose and her socks are down on her ankles. She is running towards Louis and Louis kneels down as he opens his arms wide to let Emily sink into him. 

Clearly, what an adorable sight. 

“Uncle Lewey!” Emily shrieks, her ice cream dripping on her small hand. Louis watches her as she tries her best not to trip. 

“Emmy!” Harry shouts from behind, running after her and Louis fights his best to smile so wide like a doofus because two crazy wonderful, beautiful people are running towards him both carrying melting ice cream. 

Again. Clearly, what a _sight_. 

Emily throws herself on his chest and Louis hugs her like they haven’t seen in ages and are actually great friends. Louis laughs as Emily sinks her messy lips on his coat and stains his clothes. Louis doesn’t mind though. He hugs Emily tight and Louis smiles as Harry looks at him with such fondness. 

“Hey,” Harry greets, his ice cream almost finish. He licks his finger quickly clean and Louis tries to shake the thought away. Emily pulls away and looks at Louis. 

“Uncle Lewey,” Emily says and Louis tries his best to avert his attention from Harry to the little girl hugging him like a koala. “I played footie today. I played footie!” 

“Ems, easy. Louis couldn’t breathe,” Harry says with worry and Louis laughs that amazingly wonderful laugh that makes Harry smiles warmly. 

“We played footie today,” Emily says, her ice cream totally forgotten on the pavement and Harry shakes his head as he leans down too, beside Louis to wipe Emily’s hands clean. Louis gazes at Harry and Louis wonders how amazing it is to be with these two. 

Harry isn’t the bad guy. He clearly isn’t and Emily is the living proof of this entire mishap. But Louis is stuck in the middle of something difficult to handle and this is not good. 

This is, literally _crazy_. 

“What are you doing here?” Louis then asks, recalling how Harry knows where he could be. He looks at Harry whose eyebrows are furrowed curiously and hands busy wiping Emily’s chin clean. “I mean, how did you know where I am?” 

“Don’t be silly,” Harry is quick to reply and Louis knows Harry had some sort of device to track him. Louis nods before grinning back to Emily whose mouth is moving nonstop telling all about her game and how she passed the ball with a wonderful kick. 

“We’re about to lunch and Emily here wants you to join,” Harry says as he stands up and looks at the two who are engrossed with each other. “That is if you’re free and would want to eat with us…’ 

Louis beams and pokes Emily’s dimple who startles him with a wide angelic laugh. “Of course I would love to.” 

Harry grins before Louis gets up and lets Emily wrap her arms around his neck and her legs around his hip. Harry is about to tell him to let her walk but Emily had hooked herself like a koala and Louis told him it’s okay. 

They all agreed to take the bus since Louis got in the city hall with Ken’s car. Louis is so busy listening to Emily and glancing at Harry every so often that he didn’t realise Ken watching him from behind, eyes fixed and indifferent. 

Ken punches in something in his phone and walks towards his car. 

— 

“Uncle Nialler!” Emily shrieks and Louis laughs because Emily has been shrieking since the last hour. Harry drops her bag on the nearest table and Niall stops wiping the island to look at the direction of the voice. 

Louis had let Emily down and she quickly dashed inside the pub, not minding the people she bumps into. Harry and Louis follow suite. 

“Emmy!” Niall shrieks back and Emily stops running. She throws her head back to laugh loudly as Niall approaches her and pulls her off her feet. 

Louis watches the two of them and he can’t help but smile at how Emily seems so eased with everyone else. Emily greets everyone, Josh, Lou and Tom and clearly, Emily knows how to use her charm against them. 

Louis takes a seat on one of the cushioned seats and leans against the backrest. Harry sits across him and smiles brightly. Damn those dimples. 

“Sorry,” Harry says as he looks at the menu and decides what to feed his daughter. Louis looks at him behind the menu and quirks his brows. 

“She’s always excited, Emily.” 

“I like it. She’s full of energy, I don’t mind.” 

Harry smiles before setting the menu down and looking at Louis. “She’s always like that, you know? Like all the problems in the world don’t exist when she starts laughing.” Harry explains and Louis smiles agreeing. 

Emily takes a seat beside Harry after greeting everyone while seated on Niall’s shoulders. Niall joins them after handing them their food and Louis scoffs at Niall. 

“You could’ve told me sooner _Neil_ ,” Louis says and Niall rolls his eyes before drinking his beer. Louis takes a bite of his sandwich as he blinks his eyes goofily to Emily. Emily laughs as she slowly makes a bite of meatballs Harry had cut into smaller pieces for her. 

“And what, let you freak out even before you can think clearly? No way Tommo,” Niall explains. He looks at Emily and Harry before travelling his eyes to Louis. 

Niall leans closer to Louis while Harry is busy wiping Emily’s cheeks from spaghetti sauce. Emily’s being a mess today and Louis can’t help but feel bad towards Harry. 

“You like him don’t you, Tommo?” Niall whispers and Louis almost chokes in his sandwich before eyeing Niall sternly. 

Either way, he would be obvious. He can’t deny Niall anything. Niall is darn good that he knows is Tommo is into deep and Louis knows Niall had caught him. 

“There’s nothing wrong with that Lou,” Niall adds before pushing himself back and entertaining Emily with stories and fables from Ireland. 

Louis takes a bit of his sandwich and wipes his lips clean. He stares at Harry whose attention is with Niall as well. Both Harry and Emily listening intently to Niall’s stories. 

Surely, there’s nothing wrong falling in love. Definitely. Nothing wrong about that. But, this is Harry. Harry is the enemy and yet he feels exactly like a friend it’s insane. Louis sighs before placing the sandwich down the plate. He stares at Harry lovingly and feels his tummy do summersaults when Harry stares back and smiles fondly at him. 

Louis is _screwed_. And, we all know that. We just need to remind him that.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Mentions of blood, bombing, and death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aha! It's been so long since I've last updated this. I hope I still have readers for this one. :Anyhoo, I would like to than my new found friend, Madeline for the beta :) She's utterly amazing and wonderful and all good things. She's the one who sorta pushed me to continue writing this one. I swear, I had plans but life sort of ate all my time up and my interest for this fic sorta lost, so I'm sorry petals!
> 
> Anyway, onward we go!
> 
> I make up things, places and names. Plain View isn’t really a town in England, is it?

With only three weeks remaining for the grand re-opening, Louis finds himself walking home. The past few weeks were a little surprising, to say the least. Not that he mind everything, it’s just not quite easy being a detective and law-abiding citizen.

He lets out a sneeze, and he internally groans while he tries to move his body towards home; He would be there already if not for his shitty car suddenly breaking down. 

See, he was on his way to work two nights ago when his car decided to just give up on him. He admits he was speeding up a bit since the caffeine has been wearing off of him slowly. He had just finished polishing the plans with Nick and Liam that afternoon when he decided he wasn't in the mood to endure traffic, hence leaving a bit later than his usual. 

He was distressed and exhausted and when he turned to the right curb a few blocks away from the station, his vehicle decided to stop. All of a sudden, the hood started smoking and he was lucky to get out before the fire escalated. 

Liam had panicked when he found out the news the next morning, of course he did. He even made Paul make sure the Borgata isn’t ambushing him. Louis on the other hand didn’t want to spill the beans to his boss because Harry was as horrified as Liam was when he heard. He assured the Borgata wouldn’t do such thing. 

And surprisingly, Louis believed him. 

It’s extra chilly tonight and on the third day of taking the tube just to get to and from work, he accumulated enough sinus and snot to make him agitated and stressed out. He and Harry exchanged texts for quite a while, but the curly-haired man was busy the past few days, disappearing into nowhere. 

Emily was taken care of by Caroline, one of Zayn’s au pair. He thinks it’s a good thing because Louis needs to get away from Harry to clear his head. It’s not that he doesn’t want to be with him, it’s more of how he hates yet loves to be under Harry’s presence. 

That’s the thing, isn’t it? He wants to be with Harry. He finally got himself to admit it, but there’s always a catch. Harry is a _Capo_ , a mafia lord, he works for the Borgata. He is part of the clan. And Louis? Louis is on the other side of the fence. 

It’s a perfect scene, if you really think into it. Louis can lure Harry in, like he can really convince Harry to come clean, but yet somehow it doesn’t feel right. 

After finding out all the nasty things Nick had been doing, he can’t help but consider that Nick is the actual bad guy. It’s not enough, of course, it won’t enough with just the files he’d gotten from their records to use it as proof because Nick is the town’s mayor. He has the power and yet it feels right to have a goal—to put him behind bars—because Nick looks like a criminal, if he’s being honest. He looks like he could slit someone else’s throat unlike Harry with his cheerful face. 

He lets out another sneeze as he enters the building complex of his flat and juggles through his keys. His head has been hurting ever since he met with Harry in an old building complex, telling him about the abductions and it hasn't gone away. It will only tune out, but then he starts wondering where Harry is and it’ll come back and no amount of paracetamol could cure it. 

Only Harry can, when he’s near Louis. When Harry is right beside him his headaches calm down and he’s all cured and happy and achingly stupidly in love with Harry. 

He admits it, okay? He s admitting it right now, he’s in love with Harry. And it’s wrong. It’s so wrong in so many ways that he’s willing to risk it but shouldn’t cause he has other things to consider; has other things to prioritise; has other things to mind, like for example, getting the key slot perfectly in the hole. 

Louis jimmies the key and groans when the door won’t simply budge. He leans his forehead against the door and exhales. 

It’s only half-past eight and he realises it’s awfully quiet. 

He lives in a complex building far away from the office, because the flat in this side of town is cheaper and he prefers a quiet neighbourhood. However, it’s only Wednesday, and he distinctly remembers that by this time all of his neighbours, on his floor, at least are already home. Unless they all decided to eat dinner together and then Louis should feel offended because he knows everyone in this floor. He knows all of his neighbours because he’s the detective and being friends with a detective makes our life a tad bit safer. 

Trying to ignore that simple observation, he shakes his head, thinking that it might be just coincidence that everybody fled off. Maybe there’s footie match he doesn’t remember being invited to or going at because work has been a total dick in his arse. And not in the pleasant way. 

Louis sighs as he tries to jimmy the key again and smiles when the lock unlatches. He turns the knob and hears a sound of metal, tiny and almost light hitting the tiles of his floor. He panics, knowing all too well what could it possibly be. 

It’s a sound of a pulled pin; a pin from a bomb, falling on the floor and even before Louis could respond, he didn’t have enough time to run out. 

Before he could feel himself numb and everything turn black, he’s thankful that the complex is quiet and empty, at least he’s the only casualty. 

— 

Harry had just gotten back from Holmes Chapel, visiting the area to stop by his parent’s grave. It is cold and peaceful and Harry thinks Emily misses him because he’s gone for three days. 

See, before his family arrived in Plain View, they were originally from Cheshire. It’s a small town with few people, nothing but happiness and smiles and baked goods. He used to work in the local bakery, perfecting cinnamon rolls and pastries to bring home as gifts because his mum loves to try his creations. 

It was an okay life in Holmes Chapel, but Anne met Trisha, who works in Plain View and offered her work there. Anne and Robin thought it was nice, moving to a better town, trying and working it out. 

When they found out the Trisha is actually a wife of a Mafia Lord, Anne thought of cutting ties with her. She blamed herself for being stupid, falling for someone she thought he could trust because of she does. Trisha has been nice helping them out, offering money when Anne and Robin couldn’t support for their two kids. It was chaotic and depressing until Trisha explained everything. She told them about the Borgata and all the things they do for the city. 

Plain View is a small town. Small yet rich and powerful. 

It’s powerful because of the Maliks and how they run the entire place. It’s blurry at first; even Anne and Robin didn’t quite understand how the Borgata could possibly be the nice guys. The word mafia alone shouts DANGER. What more if Anne and her family is actually part of one? She has the rights to be scared too; has the rights to feel threatened. 

But, she never did. Well, she was, at first. But when Trisha and Yaser explained all their intentions, all the good things that they’ve been doing to help the town, it cleared Anne’s mind. She agreed to be part of them too, agreed that Zayn and Harry become almost siblings, sharing toys, going to school together and treat one another like almost brothers. 

Everything felt wonderful, everything felt good. Her family is living, they pay the bills on time, eat complete meals three times a day and a house big enough for all four of them. After a while, Anne opted to distance herself from the Borgata, decided that she need some time off with the transactions and all the charities they go to. 

Yaser and Trisha decided that both Robin and Anne needed it. So they let them go back to Cheshire, with all their savings and with their kids and allowed them to rest and come back when they felt ready. 

It was until one night when Robin and Anne decided to spend time together at a restaurant leaving the kids at home that Anne thought she made the worst decision of her entire life. 

Robin was behind the wheel, chatting with Anne until Robin couldn’t make the break work no matter how many times he stepped on it. Anne called Trisha, trying to reach her but even before they could connect through, the car crashed and went down the bridge killing them both. 

Gemma and Harry heard the news that midnight and as if by instinct, they packed all the essentials and travelled back to Plain Views because they had no one in Cheshire anymore. They didn’t go back to the Borgata, and decided to work their arses off to earn money because Gemma thought trying to work alongside the Borgata would be dangerous to him and her brother. 

She stood up for Harry, stopped school and got herself three jobs, while Harry finishes university. It was working, everything felt okay again until she got raped and Harry had to stop attending school to take care of her and then little Emily was born in the world. 

Emily was the most beautiful little ball of sunshine and Gemma loved her. Harry did too, trying to help Gemma to raise her. It was going well again, everything was working out again, Harry stopped school and helped with the money while Gemma stayed at home, and took care of Emily. 

Harry thought life would go well from there till forever until Gemma was abducted. 

They were shopping for food when Gemma asked Harry to get some rice while little Emily was in his arms. It was only less then thirty seconds that when they got back to where Gemma was standing at, supposed to be waiting for them but she was gone. 

He panicked and felt himself turned white until he dashed out of the store and found Zayn with his men and instead of exchanging hi’s and hello’s for meeting again for the first time, he was in tears mumbling Gemma’s name while hugging Emily in his chest. 

Completely on his own and alone to take care of Emily, Harry took Zayn’s offer. From then on, they were brothers, the Borgata was his family now and they’ll do everything to make Nick and all his evil men pay for the crime they’d done to their family. 

“Hey,” Harry greets as he takes a step inside the Malik mansion. 

It’s a massive house with columns outside and three floors filled with rooms. The entire mansion is for the entire Borgata clan. It’s homey despite its size and Emily usually stays in here when Harry was away for almost a year. 

It used to be just for Zayn’s family, but after the tragic loss, he decides to let his men live under it too. He feels safe that way, knowing the the member of the clan is near, just within reach. The house isn’t a secret anyone but to the police, and to Nick, of course. The neighbourhood is keeping them safe too, which makes Zayn feel secured. 

Zayn puts down the book he’s reading and puffs out a smoke from his cigarette. He looks at Harry and smiles. 

“I have asthma,” Harry scrunches his nose and Zayn snorts before pressing the cigarette on the ashtray and squishing it out. 

“How was Cheshire?” He asks as he grabs the bottle of scotch from the tray and pours himself a drink. He offers Harry who shakes his head and replies— 

“I already asked for milkshake, James is going to bring it here,” Harry replies and Zayn rolls his eyes. 

“Milkshake,” Zayn mumbles as he takes a sip of his scotch. He leans againts this chair and studies Harry. 

“Did something happen?” Zayn asks and Harry looks at him. 

“No, nothing happened, I’m just glad I’m back,” Harry comments and Zayn nods before taking another sip. 

“I made a mound for Gemma’s grave. Had a proper ceremony and all, but the coffin’s empty,” Harry says and Zayn frowns at him. 

“Harry,” Zayn says, voice flat yet made Harry flinch. “You don’t know that. You shouldn’t have done that.” 

“Stop it Zayn,” Harry says exasperatedly and shakes his head. “She’s not coming back. It’s been six years, she’s never coming back.” 

“You don’t know that,” Zayn replies but Harry raises a hand to stop him. 

“I do know,” he cuts and Zayn looks at him affronted. “I found Gemma’s body in America, Zayn. She’s dead. She was killed years ago, and it was frustrating to find out that she didn’t have a proper grave, she didn’t even had a proper ceremony. She was thrown out, her body was thrown out of the river and when they found her body two weeks after, she was just buried to some fucking pit to the suburbs. So don’t tell me I don’t know, because I do. And it’s frustrating because I can’t do anything about it anymore. I-I—“ 

Harry hasn’t realise he was crying until he muffled out words and a tear trickles down his cheeks. He hasn’t realise that Zayn was already hugging him from behind, wrapping him, cradling him as he had slipped off the couch and on the carpeted floor. 

He’s destroying Zayn’s well-pressed suit, ruining it with his tears and how they settle uncomfortably on the floor but Zayn lets him weep, lets him cry and Harry feel thankful for still having Zayn. 

They stay like that for a few more minutes, James appeared a while ago and placed the tray of milkshake and cookies on the table, and hurried out. Zayn is whispering soft words on Harry’s ears when Harry tightens his hold on Zayn’s arms. 

“How about Doniya? H-how about your sisters, have you heard anything?” He sobs and Zayn leans to press a kiss on Harry’s temple. 

“I did,” Zayn replies and he tightens his hold around Harry before continuing, “Just like Gemma. We found the corpses in Pakistan. I-I flew to Pakistan the moment my men confirmed the bodies. Had to see it myself. We burned their bodies and took their ashes with me.” 

Harry nods but doesn’t say anything. 

“I’m sorry about Gemma,” Zayn mumbles, his knees are starting to ache but he ignores it and let Harry sinks into his hug. “I’m sorry about what happened to her. Don’t blame yourself on this Harry, it’s not your fault. We’ll do something about this, yeah? Be strong, the Borgata needs you. I need you. Emily needs you, okay?” 

Harry nods and wipes the tear off his face. He taps Zayn’s forearm and Zayn loosens and sits on his butt. 

“I’m sorry about your sisters too,” Harry whispers and Zayn ruffles his hair, the curls brushing against his cheeks, as reply. 

It’s always been him and Zayn and the rest of the clan after the tragedy they both empathises with. It’s funny how they share something so strong despite their differences. 

When Zayn offered to help, he paid for Harry’s schooling. He continued schooling after stopping on his last year. With his neighbourhood sympathising with them, Zayn and Harry lived normally, protected by the clan and by everyone who had helped them. They worked and functioned under the radar. 

Harry and Zayn both learned how to defend themselves, studies tactics, how to use the guns and knives; they both trained together, trained with the clan because they both know Nick has to be stopped. They needed to be strong, for Emily, for everybody. 

He stretches his legs and Harry gets up slowly, letting the blood rush down before striding towards the table. He lifts the glass and sips his milkshake when one of their bodyguards pushes the door in. It’s Angelo and he looks pained. 

“Zayn,” Angelo says and he looks at Harry before settling back on the floor where Zayn is gazing up at him. 

“Angelo? What is it?” 

“It’s the detective,” he replies and sees how Harry straightens up worriedly before him. “Someone bombed his place. We don’t know yet if he’s alive. But we’re positive he’s there.” 

Harry blinks and tries to place the glass back on the table with wobbly hands but failed. 

— 

Everything in him hurts. 

Louis tries to open his eyes, feeling remnants of cement on his eyelids. He feels something wet trickling down his temple and it’s pretty obvious that it’s blood. He rolls and turns on his back after being thrown against the wall across the door. 

The damage wasn’t that too much, if Louis compares it to the damage it caused on his body. The bomb wasn’t that huge, enough to knock someone within a feet away. 

It’s a good thing Louis had closed the door back and tried to dodge it but the tick beat him to it, and he could only curl himself on the floor, pull the coat on his head and tried to make the impact hit him less as intended. 

Whoever had planted the bomb in his flat wants to scare him. Or kill him, but Louis brushes it off because he may be afraid but he wouldn’t just let this bastards go without putting up a fight. How very dare them to trespass his flat? He’s confused. And yet he can’t think properly, it’s insane. 

He groans when his back hits on the some wood pieces from the blasted door. He twitches his limbs, his fingers and his neck; surveys what parts of his body had been wounded. He lets out a cry when he tried to move his right knee. Jesus, did he fracture his knee? He tries again and yeah, he did fracture his knee and he vaguely remembers the door know hitting him square on the knee. He exhales, his eyes started to get watery because the pain is starting to sink and he certainly looks like a mess now. 

Great, just great, There are still no one in the complex and he wonders if people outside had witnessed or heard the explosion. It pisses Louis off and he’s starting to get frustrated now, what with his broken knee and blood covering his entire body. 

He closes his eyes for a moment, feeling the lids heavy when he recalls that he has Harry Styles’ folder. He bites the inside of his cheeks and hopes that the intruder’s goal was to plant a bomb in his flat and nothing else. 

However, he can't help but to question himself because what if they found it? What if they have it? It’s unfair, Louis haven’t been able to read it yet and that’s police property. Okay, that reasoning was a bit childish and he tries to relax his breathing because the impact had done great at him. 

Trying to sit up straight, Louis shakes his head and brushes the power dust coating his face. His hair feels sticky because of the blood and his entire body looks like he crawled under the escape tunnels underground. He’s dusty and dirty and broken and agitated. 

He bends his left leg slowly and lifts his body to turn around, putting all of his weight on his leg as he crouches and get up on his foot. He reaches for the nearest wall as support to stand up. 

He winces every time he accidentally puts pressure on his right leg, causing pain to his right knee. Louis leans against the wall and takes a deep breath. 

See, he needs to cross the hallway to get to his flat and check his bed to see if the folder is still under the mattress. However, to do that he needs to walk, like with two legs so he could cross the hall. Unfortunately, he can’t do that. 

Louis looks around and sighs because no one is coming up yet to help him. 

They say that it’s best to numb oneself so you won’t need to feel the pain anymore. Figuratively, and not literally because how can a person numb oneself? Isn’t that difficult? Would numbing yourself would really solve things? Wouldn’t it be just prolonging the pain? Ah, see? Figurative. 

There are only a few things why Louis wanted to be a detective. He loves Sherlock, adores his books when he was still a child. He remembers asking for his mum to buy him a magnifying glass because all detectives needs one. His mum had only chuckled at him but bought him the most beautiful magnifying glass for his birthday. 

He’d always been an observant, reads and understands people, wonders what they’re thinking. It helps, and Louis is thankful for growing such talent. He’d used it on all of his footie matches, observed players from the other team and Louis thinks it’s one of the reasons why he wanted to pursue being a protective. 

He stands on his two feet and ignores the pain and pumping of veins on his right knee. 

Another reason is, he just loves to test different things, acting all cool and like Sherlock, deciding which option serves him best. He always wants to prove something, always want to show to the world that he can and he will, and right now, Louis tries to limp his way towards the room. 

If Liam was here, he’d scolded Louis because it’s not the proper way to do that. You shouldn’t go inside a blasted flat because you need to retrieve your things. It’s not a candy store where kids can just run in and out feeling safe and secured. There could still be other bombs in the flat and Louis is acting hastily over a manila folder with Harry’s name on it. 

He continues to half walk and half limp, cursing at every step while sliding his coat and tries to get his gun. His hands feel numb and freezing. Louis thinks he’s losing blood—fast. 

When he look behind and down the floor, he wasn’t even wrong. He chews his lips because he wonders how long will it take for the paramedics to reach his flat. 

Finally getting inside, the knee starting to get numb, Louis continues his way towards his bedroom. A gun is clutched on tightly and pointed up from just in case someone hiding would decide to jump and attack him. 

He knows it’s futile because his hands are starting feel numb too, and the blood trickling on his temple is starting to drip on his eyes. 

He reaches his bedroom just in time for the knee to feel lead, heavy and not heavy all the same. There’s a trail of blood from behind and he thinks there’s a splinter on his leg or arse or whatever because he’s losing so much blood that he _might_ die anytime soon. 

Like, right now. Give or take, any moment now. 

Ignoring his death, Louis pushes a hand under the pillow and smiles weakly when his fingertips brush against the material of the folder. Louis was right, the intruder only wants to scare Louis (or wants him dead, either way) since he the folder is still under the pillow of his bed. He leans down, grabs the folder and straightens up again, figuring out what to do next. 

It really is overwhelming to find your place almost destroyed especially when you’re only planning to spend the night tucked under the bed and have a sip of your favourite tea. 

He scans around the place. Aside from the destroyed door, ruined living room and almost trashed kitchen and not to mention, the kitchen island he spends all of his time on, the flat looks all right. The explosion didn’t manage to crash the walls, so that’s a good thing, isn’t it? Surely, the landowner won’t ask him to pay for the damage? Or will he? Louis doesn’t know anymore. 

The thing is, Louis can’t really feel his legs anymore. Awhile ago, it was only his right knee that’s hurting but right now, he can’t feel both of his legs and he’s been trailing around the flat, letting blood create a mess on the floor. His left leg is quite all right, it’s just, he’s been putting so much pressure on it, it starting to get numb too. He should’ve at least grabbed the black tall umbrella kept in the closet to serve as his crutch. 

Maybe he should considering serving himself a glass of whiskey, shouldn’t he? Louis can almost feel it, can almost feel his body failing him, how hurt is he anyway? He smiles weakly to himself because apparently bombing can do so many damage to oneself, including thinking crazy thoughts. Really, he wants to just lie here on the floor, wants to just pull the blanket he leaves on the backrest of the couch and curl on the tiles and just go to la la dreamland. 

It’s starting to turn black now and Louis snaps his eyes close feeling the blood starting to dry on his cheeks. Blood should continue flowing, shouldn’t it? It should, because he’s still alive and if the blood stops, does it mean he’s almost near death? Is he dying already? 

How perfectly fucked up is this? He didn’t sign for this, or if he did, he was hoping he’d die someplace better and heroically. He wasn’t planning to die in his flat, for fuckity fuck’s sake, he hasn’t even had a chance to fire his gun and yet he’s here, on the floor of his flat, almost dying. 

He starting to get pissed, he doesn’t even realise that he’d fallen down on his back, couldn’t even react anymore because there’s no point. He can’t even feel his body, if he’s being completely honest. He just wants to curl, hug the folder in his chest and go into slumber. Can he just do that? can he just go to sleep now, since his eyes feel heavy already and his body wasn’t much of a use anymore, so can he? 

Deciding that there’s no point arguing, he turns to his left, being his left leg as his right leg stays stretched, he lets the lids of his eyes close. His breathing turns soft and Louis thinks it’s so peaceful when you’re dying. If only he had known this is how it would feel, then he should’ve just let it happen to him a few years ago. 

He’s almost there, he knows—he can feel it—when his phone starts buzzing in the pocket of his trousers. He tries to ignore it because he can see the light already, or was he just overreacting? He lets out a frustrated sigh when the phone doesn’t stop buzzing, the ringing alerting the entire flat awake. He wants to throw the phone away, cuss at how the little lifeless thing disturb his sleep. He was so close in getting to the gates of heaven, so close. 

Fishing for the phone with his right hand, he slides the green icon and presses the phone on his ear. 

“‘ello?” His voice cracks and rasp. 

“Lou? Louis? Louis!” 

Louis cringes his face because he’s starting to hear angels cry near. Surely, it’s a voice of an angel but angels don’t need to call him just to say his name. They’ll all be gathered together in the heaven any way. 

“You’re amazing,” Louis mumbles and he doesn't even know where’d he gotten that. He’s bloody smart, can formulate sensible sentences and right now, that is a sensible one. Thank you very much. 

“Louis, it’s me. Lou, it’s Harry. I’m going to your place, okay? Louis?” 

Louis blinks and groans, he accidentally twists his right knee, “No. No. No. Don’t go here, it’s a mess, Harry. No. I haven’t done the laundry yet. I haven’t even done shopping for food. My fridge’s empty Harry. Oh. But there’s a nice Chinese place down the road…” 

“Louis? Louis! Lou, fuck it. _Fuck_. Louis!” 

“Yeah, that’s me,” Louis breathes and this angel should really stop talking because his voice makes him sleepy and Louis wants nothing but to sleep now. He might throw a tantrum any time soon. 

“Don’t let go of the phone. We’re almost there. We’re almost there, love. Don’t fucking sleep on me Louis,” Louis can hear the car speeding up on the other line and he might have to put this angel behind bars because speeding is against the law. 

Louis wants to really, really sleep now. It’s unfair. 

“O-okay,” Louis mumbles, fighting with his best to open his eyes. 

“Good, we’re almost there, love. We’re almost there” Harry repeats like a mantra and Louis smiles because the angel had called him love. 

“Hurry,” is what he only says. 

He really tried, okay? He really tried staying awake but the slow voice of the angel’s voice makes him sleepy and his eyelids are starting to get heavy. His breathing starts to slow and he feel surprisingly chilly even if it’s summer. His hold on the phone loosens and so is the hold in the gun but he couldn’t decipher anymore, he’s almost knocked out to comprehend what he should do. 

The voice starts ringing on his ear again, louder this time but Louis couldn’t fight off the sleep, no matter how hard he tries, he just can’t. 

— 

Everything fucking hurts. 

He wonders if he’s in hell or heaven, or wherever. The point is that his body hurts and this isn’t how heaven should be. Heaven should be a calm, quiet and wonderful place, filled with cotton clouds, sweet vanilla smell and milkshakes? 

He can smell the sweet milky scent of strawberry milkshake yet can’t see where the milkshake is. He furrows his brows because despite the almost useless and numb body, his nose can still identify that wonderful Harry-like scent amidst the thick powdery dusty air because of the explosion. 

Someone is holding his cheek and he smiles in his mind because the hand is warm against his cold cheek. It’s nice. It feels nice and Louis? Louis wants that hand to stay against his cheek forever. 

“Lou? Louis? Louis?” 

Louis wants him to shut up, because he feels comfortable on the floor just like this and the angelic slow voice causes for his body to jerk and try to actually get up on his feet. It’s not good. It won’t do good, he can’t even feel his body. 

“Louis, it’s me. Harry. Lou, love.” Harry pleads and Louis opens his eyes after feeling something warm and wet dropping on his face. He wishes that those are not blood because the last time he checked, he’d lost enough blood to confirm he’s dead. 

“H-Harry,” Louis croaks and Harry sniffs. 

Oh. 

Those are tears. Harry’s crying. Harry’s crying? 

But…why? 

Why would Harry cry..? 

“Hey,” Louis tries, voice weak and almost gasping. He lifts his right hand, the phone sliding on his necking as reaches for Harry’s face. 

Harry clutches the hand with his and kisses the fingertips. It should be disgusting, Harry should be disgusted and Louis should be bemused but instead, he finds it endearing. His fingertips are covered with blood, and dust and Harry is there, being as angelic as always, and kissing his skin like everything will be okay. 

He can’t formulate any response anymore, but lets Harry cradle his hand in his as he slowly close his eyes and the last thing he heard before letting oblivion take him is Harry’s voice. 

— 

Considering of what happened, Louis thinks he’s in the best place, even though he can’t clearly see where he is. Everything’s black, and that is all. 

Well that, and it starting to hurt terribly, uncontrollably that he tries to move and scream out in pain. 

There are hands on his legs, on his hip and on his torso, trying to stop him from moving too much. He doesn’t open his eyes but he knows there are people gripping him planted, holding him down. 

He hears mumbling and persistent voice, a strong and firm order and Louis shouts when a needle is being pricked on his arm. It’s not that he’s afraid of needles, it’s just weird and confusing and all he desires was to sleep. It’s not fair. He didn’t ask for this. 

Feeling whatever they’d injected to him, Louis suddenly feels numb and weary and even more sleepy, and yes. Sleep. Louis wants to sleep, forever. He’s got no problem with that. 

— 

After what felt like centuries, Louis wakes up in a room furnished beautifully and has a massive window. He tries to study the room, searches with his eyes if he can spot any identification where he is. He might be in a hospital but it’s too fancy looking and he couldn’t afford to be admitted in such place, it’s—it’s too expensive. Well, what with how the curtains are made of silk and velvet and the couch across the room is covered of black buttery leather and the furnitures are all made of mahogany and the bloody door is so wide and tall and looked so, so expensive. 

He couldn’t sit up, couldn’t even speak and what with he feels on the lower part of his torso, his legs are either casted or wrapped with bandages to tight, he’s not even sure if blood still flows in them. 

He looks on the bedside table and finds his phone lying on it, with the screen facing down. He tries to reach out for it but decides not to when his right arm is attached to an IV drip and his left hand is wrapped in bandage. 

He sighs, feeling defeated and all worked out, thinking that he’s still lucky despite everything and breathes in deeply before closing his eyes. 

— 

“Are you sure?” Harry asks and the man sitting across him nods. 

Niall appears behind the counter and hands the man and Harry their drinks. The man looks at Harry again, convincing him with something and Harry sighs before pulling the glass of milkshake near him. 

“Alright, mate?” Niall asks the man and the man nods sternly, taking the pint and drowning in draft. 

“‘M okay,” he replies and Harry looks at the table, making a hole with all the thoughts rummaging inside his head. 

“I saw him following Louis the other night,” he explains and Harry continues to sip as he listens to him intently. “I was feeling suspicious around him because i heard from Louis that he stayed with Nick after their meeting weeks ago. It’s kinda confusing because Ken is just a new guy, just like me and Nick asked him to stay.” 

Harry digests the information and looks at Matt, “Wait, the meeting? The one at the City Hall?” 

“Yeah, with Nick. They’re having a meeting on plans about tightening the security for the re-opening of the port two weeks from now. Ken Boston was with him.” 

“No. Louis was alone when he stepped out of the City Hall. I didn’t—I had no idea. Fuck,” Harry sighs and Matt looks at him. 

“Ken is Louis’ new partner, by the way.” He says, voice squeaking and little because he is afraid to piss the Capo. Like who in their right minds would take a piss on Harry? No one, of course. 

“I thought you should be Louis’ new partner?” He asks, voice flat and unthreatening. 

Matt shrugs, “I know. That’s the plan, isn’t it? I should be the one who’ll be paired with Louis but then when I arrived in the morning this Ken Boston appeared and dashed to Liam’s office. Apparently he was there because of Nick, so I think Ken was there as Nick’s spy. Like I am to the Borgata.” 

“So what’s the plan now? Liam? The police? Did they find out about Louis’ situation?” Harry asks and Matt looks at him with a pained face. 

“Yeah. Liam’s had gone mad. They’re looking for Louis everywhere. It’s been three days since the explosion and Liam’s almost dying because Louis’ missing. I think Nick and Ken don’t mind, because it’s pretty obvious it’s their doing but it’s Liam I’m worried,” he confesses and Harry looks at him. 

“Why, what’s wrong with Liam?” 

“Well, he ignored the mayor’s orders to send men to his office yesterday morning. Nick was asking for people to guard the city hall and Liam didn’t obey. If not only for Paul, the police would have sent at least half-a dozen of men. Nick was asking for twenty-four men, and Liam only let six. I think Nick’s going to be pissed.” 

Harry nods and drinks his milkshake, “Why did he do that?” 

Matt gulps the remaining content of his pint and looks ahead, eyes wandering around the collection of liqueurs on Niall’s shelf. 

“I don’t know but it all started when Louis’ car broke down, Liam threw a proper fit and even accused our clan for doing such thing. I think he’s worried, like a proper friend worried? He gets too emotional sometimes and I think he’s stressed what with Nick’s orders and demands. And losing a friend. I mean, won’t you feel the same?” 

“I do, but I wasn’t expecting that from Liam,” Harry replies. “I mean, he’s always been a puppet and he’s been always a good dog. Nick’s dog.” 

Matt smiles and get off the chair. He looks at Harry and puts on his coat. 

“I think it has something to do with _your_ Louis.” 

“My—Louis? What?” 

Matt nods and fixes his tie. “I heard from Paul and Michael that they’re opening the case of all abducted women and children again. After what, 4-5 years? Louis and Liam had been staying late recently, reading through files and records and I think Louis had convinced Liam on finding out the man behind the crime. 

“He might be blinded before but I think Liam is starting to figure out who’s the real victim in this game. Well, of course, they still need more proofs and that’s why I am there, to help them and to help the clan,” he finishes with a smile. 

Harry looks at him, a small smile twitching from his lips. Matt salutes at him and turns around to get out of the pub. Harry waits for his figure to disappear before he attends back to his milkshake and finishes his drink. 

“Will Louis be okay?” Niall asks all of a sudden, cutting Harry from his thoughts 

“He is. He’ll be okay Ni,” Harry replies and offers, “You could come visit, if you want. He hasn’t woken up yet and I think your loud sunshine shrill will shake him back to life. He’s been sleeping for three days, I panicked but then Caroline assured me he’s okay.” 

Niall barks out a laugh and nods. 

“Can we visit him now? I miss his face,” he asks and Harry pouts before nodding. 

“Didn’t you miss my face when I was in America?” 

Niall laughs again and shakes his head. He dashes towards Josh and speaks to him quickly while he removes the strings of his apron. Harry wipes the corners of his mouth and grabs his phone to type a quick message. 

_I think we need to save Liam too_

A few seconds later, Niall walks towards him and he smiles before grabbing the phone again when it buzzes. 

**I was planning on doing the same. Found out Nick’s up for his head next.**

_We’re really brothers, aren’t we? :)) Falling for men in uniform x_

Harry smiles when they step out of the pub and are greeted by Angelo. Niall tows behind, wearing a snapback and jumping in the car with Harry following him behind. 

**Shut up. Louis woke up already. He was looking for you. aha x**

— 

“And this is a picture I drew for you Louis. See?” Emily says. She sits on a high stool beside Louis and is busy showing her drawings. Louis is feeling much better now, after sleeping for three days. The cast in his right knee is starting to itch and he knows they’d done something to heal the fracture because it looked different from the first time he woke up after he was brought here. 

He’d learned that he was in the mansion of the Maliks, or Zayn Malik, he couldn’t remember. One thing’s for certain, he’s on Borgata ground and he doesn’t know how to feel about that. 

Emily came to his room moments ago; she just arrived from the usual Saturday footie kiddie tournament within the neighbourhood and with her was an armful of drawings she did the entire week. It’s all sorted doodles of her school, her friends, and her toys and of Harry. However, there’s one drawing that Emily was really, really happy to show him. 

It’s a picture of Louis, sticks drawn with a blue crayon and yellow lines for his hair. He’s standing beside a car, his old corolla, and holding an ice cream cone. It has the words _’Get Well Soon_ in a messy scribble but Louis smiled widely and accepted the little present with all his heart. 

“This is wonderful Emily,” Louis beams and Emily smiles before bopping her head in tune with whatever the song she’s been humming ever since she sat on that chair. 

He’s leaning against the headboard, his right arm still with IV drop. He still has bandages around his body but they’re always changed everyday so even if Louis was asleep like the dead, he’s still somewhat clean. 

“Hey, Em?” 

Emily stops drawing on the bedside table and looks at him. 

“Where’s Harry?” 

“Papa? Hmm,” she stops and thinks. She smiles and starts drawing again, “He said he needs to go somewhere, Uncle Zayn said he’ll be back soon.” 

Louis nods and continues to watch Emily doodling on the table. Caroline drops by a while later to bring them food and help Louis with his water. He met Angelo this morning, helping him to the bathroom. It was a struggle but Angelo was strong to steer him on the ensuite without any trouble. 

“What are you drawing, Em?” 

Emily drops then pen and turns to face him, the seat turning with her. She seems fascinated with the stool because she’s been twirling around in between drawings and talking to Louis. 

“It our footie team, we won today’s game,” Emily beams and shows the drawing of her little teammates with a violet crayon. The hairs were an assortment of blonde to grey to brow to black and Louis smiles when he notices a tall stick drawing of what looks like a splitting image of Harry. Well, an _attempt_ splitting image of Harry with the capabilities of a six year old. 

“Is that papa?” Louis asks, lifting his left arm to point the figure apart from the team sitting on the bleachers. 

“Yes,” Emily breathes, little giggles coming out of her lips. “Uncle Zayn and Papa’s are the best cheerleader.” 

Louis nods and smiles at the drawing. He looks at Emily and asks, “Is he? How’s your skills, doing good?” 

“I made a good pass today. Uncle and Papa said I did great. I even goaled!” She says cheerfully and Louis nods, trying to wiggle his bum so he can lean closer to Emily and settle comfortably. 

“You did? That’s amazing!” 

Emily giggles and runs a hand to clear her face off of the strands. She claps and beams, her dimples poking on her cheeks and Louis can see Harry’s image again on little Emily. 

“We’re going to eat pancakes and waffles for dinner later because I scored a goal,” Emily says in her chirpiest voice, which hints Louis that eating breakfast for dinner seems like a special thing for them. He nods happily, fond face for the little girl. 

“I love pancakes too,” Louis says and Emily’s face perks up from the drawing. 

“I’ll tell papa to cook for you too. Do you like blueberries, Louis? Papa loves blueberries but uncle Zayn and I want chocolate chip.” 

Louis chuckles and replies, “I love blueberries. I think they’re the best pancakes after the chocolate chips.” 

Emily nods, the gummy smile still present on her face and Louis considers that as a good deal. 

“Papa is my most favourite person,” Emily mumbles. “Uncle Zayn said he needed to finish work that’s why he went to America. Have you been to America, uncle Louis?” 

Louis shakes his head and looks at Emily intently, waiting for her to continue talking. He isn’t aware where Harry had been to, only know that he just got back here from abroad. 

See, the relationship between Harry and Louis is just so complicated; they have their own definition of chemistry. Or can he even be bothered to call it like that? He likes Harry, he thinks he loves Harry but at the same time he knows he can’t be with Harry. He still needs proof, he still needs to figure things out, work with a solution to stop everything. 

The re-opening its due in two weeks and he’s almost useless because now who will placate Nick’s whims? What about Liam? does he know where Louis is? Most definitely not, since he’s in the Borgata grounds but what happens now? Just thinking of how to be with Harry—oops. What? Well, that’s the first problem, isn’t it? He’s not even sure if Harry has feelings for him, or maybe he has? Since Harry had kissed him first; he started texting random things to Louis, told him his stories about Emily and Gemma and it was Harry who cried… 

Oh yeah, that. 

Louis had almost forgotten that Harry was crying when he came to save him. Surely it meant something? No one would cry for someone if they don’t care for the person, wouldn’t they? 

It’s frustrating and annoying because instead of throwing a fit and letting his thoughts eat him, Louis must school his face and chat with Emily. It’s not that Emily annoys him, she’s is such a wonderful kid, amazing even, but he has to act normal and be a proper adult who can handle situations like this. 

“I heard uncle Zayn and papa talking about moving to America,” Emily whispers as if it’s a secret between Harry and Zayn and no one must find out. 

“Are you sure?” Louis asks and why does it feel like his heart is starting to weigh more and more? 

Emily nods and turns back to drawing again. “I heard them talking one night when papa went tucking me to bed. I couldn’t sleep then looked for him. I heard them talking.” 

“Em, it’s bad to eavesdrop,” he says instead with a roll of his eyes and pout of the lips. Emily looks up at him with wide eyes and god, why does she have to be a complete resemblance of Harry? Is Harry sure he didn’t bring this kid to world by himself? 

“I’m sorry!” She says hurriedly and covers her mouth with his little palms. “Please don’t tell papa, Louis. Please, please, please. I didn’t mean to. Please don’t tell papa.” 

“Tell me what?” A slow drawl cuts in the room and Emily turns around to jump off the stool and cling her small body to Harry’s legs. 

“Papa!” 

“Hi pumpkin,” Harry greets and Louis feels his stomach tied into knots. 

It is as if time had stopped, and all he can feel is Harry’s gaze on him. He looks so soft and fragile even if he’s the one who’s looking vulnerable right now and it amazes him. He’s right here, Harry’s right here and there are tons of questions he wants to ask. He wants to feel Harry’s hands again, feel his warmth, and smell his scent. Good god, Harry is looking at him like he’s the source of his life and it’s unfair, because…because…it should be him and not Harry feeling those emotions. It should be him and he can’t wait to feel Harry close and it’s unfair because he knows it’s wrong and yet he wants to be with him. 

He locks gaze with Harry and he sees the small curl of lips and Louis thinks he can do anything with the way Harry is looking at him 

But he’s willing to risk it. So he will. 

He sees Harry raise an eyebrow when he tries to lift his right hand and pull the duvet off him. Creases are formed on Harry’s forehead, his face turning in scrunching disagreement and Louis stops. He places his hand back to the bed and leaves the duvet. 

Okay, he might not be willing to risk it now. He can’t even stand on his feet because of his casted leg. He might just have to wait for it. In time, Louis settles and waits for Harry to enter the room completely, with his daughter clinging to him like a monkey. 

“Hi Louis,” another voice makes an entrance and Louis breaks the stare to find Niall standing behind Harry. 

“Niall!” 

“Ni!” 

Emily detaches herself to Harry and reaches for Niall. She jumps on her feet and makes grabby hands to Niall, asking to be lifted. He laughs and scoops her off the floor. 

“Looking ace, mate,” Niall says as he enters the room with a beaming Emily in his arms. Louis rolls his eyes and grins at himl. 

“Well, I did my best. These bandages can’t do nothing to make me less dashing,” Louis replies and earns confused face from Harry who is now making his way to the table on the window. He replaces the old flowers with new white peonies and Louis admires him from the bed. 

Niall sits on the stool and lets Emily down the floor. She collects her things and stands beside Harry. They starts mumbling to each other, too softly that Louis can’t help but be intrigued. And what was that he told Emily about eavesdropping? 

“How are you?” Niall asks. 

Louis looks back him and smiles softly, “I’m fine. I’m here and alive, Nialler.” 

“Josh and I were so worried. How did it happen?” 

“Uh, I. It’s on my way—where are you going?” Louis finds himself asking when he sees Harry and Emily slowly walking out of the door. 

“Papa says we need to meet uncle Zayn,” Emily says and Louis schools his face not to react when it was Emily who answered his question and not Harry. Is Harry mad at him? Why won’t he talk to him? 

“Oh, okay,” Louis mumbles to himself and Emily nods before waving at him and Niall. 

“See you later Louis,” she grins and adds, “Don’t worry, I’ll convince papa to make you blueberry pancakes.” 

He sees Niall smirk but stays silent and ignores it. He beams at Emily waves playfully until Harry and Emily walks out of the room. 

Louis tries not to feel bad about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My laptop gave up on me. I don't know when I'll can update again. I'm sorry. :( But I'm goign to continue writing this, I swear.
> 
> Come chat? 
> 
> tumblr: wittyliterary


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of talking and bathing. Eek?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks Madeline for the beta! x
> 
> Happy holidays everyone!

Angelo pulls the break and scrams out of the car, shoulders hunched but relaxed as he ignores the raindrops falling from the sky. It was raining terribly and Plain Views is as moody as London, so it wasn't really a surprise that after a weeklong of sunshine, it's raining now. He hurries at the back door and opens an umbrella as the man from the inside steps out.

"We're here," Angelo mutters, eyes wandering around. "How sure are you that he'll come?"

Zayn runs a hand on the lapels of his suit and fixes the cufflinks - ruby and gold chains - hanging from the end of his sleeves. Caroline and Emily had done a job well done on dressing him. 

"I'm most certain," Zayn replies. He stands under the umbrella and looks around. "Matt texted me a while ago. Informed me that Liam went out already."

"Okay," Angelo answers, still unsatisfied. "I don't know about him."

Zayn look at his bodyguard and shrugs, "I know what you're thinking, but I have something to make sure he won't flip."

Angelo sighs, "And if that doesn't work?"

Zayn looks at him affronted, "What makes you think that won't work?"

Angelo chuckles and tries to steady the umbrella above them, "Everyone knows Harry does the thinking for the Borgata, Dei Capi."

Zayn rolls his eyes and hits Angelo's right arm playfully, "Careful, I'm the boss of all bosses, so. I can fire you."

Angelo shakes his head as they start walking towards the entrance of the building. "Why isn't he here anyway? Shouldn't he be here to explain things as well?"

"He has other things to deal with. I'm going to meet him back to the mansion. We'll hear from him later."

"So, what happens if your plan doesn't fall into place?" Angelo chimes and Zayn growls like a puppy at him.

"Then I guess, you can manhandle me from there," Zayn finishes and Angelo smirks before chuckling. He looks at the Capo piercingly and raises an eyebrow as if asking he's all settled before he opens the glass door and they are welcomed by a waitress in a dress too big for her. She looks like a student working part time and borrowed the dress from one of the staff.

Angelo closes the umbrella and stacks it in the rack and and brushes the droplets on his shoulder blades. Zayn rubs his palms together to create warmth. 

"Table for two?" The waitress asks and Zayn shakes his head.

"I'm actually here for someone," Zayn says with a small smile. "Is Liam Payne already around?"

"Oh. The chief," she mumbles and nods. She grabs two menus and looks at them, expecting for more detailed arrangements because Angelo surely needs to be seated, too.

"Yeah. I am his date," Zayn explains. "However, please give my friend a table not too far away from mine, please." He says as he points to Angelo and smiles at her. 

The waitress nods quickly and leads both of them inside the dining hall, walking past the small bakery upfront and the bar at the side. Angelo stays close behind Zayn, making sure nobody says anything as some people stares at them oddly. It's not that everyone knows who they are, it's just--they need to be careful because they're completely under the radar. He's wary about the surroundings, and Zayn admires him for being the best bodyguard. 

She motions towards the table where a man has its back facing Zayn. He nods, smiles small and reaches for the menu the waitress hands over him. The waitress then leads Angelo to an empty seat, two tables away from them, across from Zayn.

"Ah, Mr. Payne," Zayn greets as he walks towards the seat and pulls a seat. He plops onto it smoothly but when he looks up, he glances at Liam with wide worried eyes.

Zayn knows how Liam looks, knows the light brown puppy dog eyes, knows all too well the soft cheeks and those pink plump lips. He knows how Liam is nothing but a bundle of soft blankets and adorableness despite the muscles, the uniform, the badge and the guns. He's still firm and disciplined but Zayn knows that Liam is also like a cup of hot cocoa on winter.

He's not expecting, however, to see Liam look at him like he hadn't slept for a week. His eyes are deep and blank, dark bags under the now empty brown eyes and the lips so pale. He was hoping for a lively and cheerful Liam but not this. He thinks he can understand now how Harry feels whenever he sees Louis lying lifelessly on the bed.

It isn't how Zayn planned for this to go, but he sighs and takes the menu. 

The mood outside is surprisingly friendlier than the atmosphere he's sharing with Liam inside the restaurant. It's almost suffocating and petrifying. 

It's funny how the Boss feels threatened under the officer's presence. He's the mafia lord in this predicament and should be the one handling the situation.

"Have you guys decided yet?" The waitress appears in Zayn's grace and looks at Liam blankly. He schools his nervousness of texting Harry to be with him. He should've listened to Angelo.

"Just the turkey sandwich, please and today's red wine," Zayn replies, setting the menu down. She nods and looks at Liam.

"Coffee with sugar and cream," he answers and Zayn quirks a brow.

"Is that all?" The waitress asks and Liam shrugs, eyes on the big glass window instead of looking to either Zayn or the waitress. He pulls his coat close around him self-consciously and runs a hand on his face. He sure looks tired and and Zayn looks at Angelo with almost sorry eyes.

"I'm not really hungry, thanks much," he says quickly and final. The waitress nods as she collects their menus and dashes away. She heads to Angelo's table and asks for his meal.

"So. You came," Zayn says, voice awfully high for such a grey day. "I feared you wouldn't entertain my invitation."

Liam looks at him piercingly and scoffs. "What do you want? Where is he? You've mentioned on your letter you know where Louis is?"

Zayn smirks. It's all about emotion and feelings, and Zayn knows for sure that Liam is already on his limit now, snapping like this, feeling almost vulnerable, thinking that he might be tricked. 

Zayn knows how to handle the situation now. 

Luckily, for the both of them, the waitress appears back with a tray of their orders. She hands Liam his coffee and gives Zayn his glass of wine and plate of turkey sandwich. 

"Thank you," Zayn grins and takes a sip of his wine. Liam opens the sugar and cream packets, he pours the content and stirs it with the coffee. He can feel Liam glaring at him.

"I invited you for lunch. Are you sure you wouldn't something to eat?"

"I'm fine," Liam grumbles. "It's not lunch."

Zayn stares at his sandwich and grins to himself. Liam will soon snap and he's sure about it.

"You should thank me for inviting you out," Zayn replies with seriousness before he rolls his eyes.

"You know what? I think I'm just wasting my time going here. I don't think you plan on answering me seriously," Liam snaps. He hasn't touched his coffee and Zayn hasn't tried lifting his sandwich but it feels like they're almost done.

Zayn grins and leans towards the table. He props his elbows on the table and intertwines his fingers. He tucks his chin at the back of his palms and looks at Liam with a smug look.

"I thought it's the detective who has temper issues?" 

Liam snarls and pushes himself off the table. He gets up loudly, earning a few glances from a couple of patriots. Angelo moves his leg out the table but Zayn gives him a look and shakes his head.

"I don't have a time for this," Liam says weakly.

"You do. And you will do as I say because I know where Louis is," Zayn replies cooly. "If you won't calm down, so help me, something bad will happen to him."

Liam stops on his attempt to turn around and run away. He stares at Zayn with as wide as saucer eyes and shakes his head. "You wouldn't."

He feel shivers in his spine when Zayn smirks at him.

"I can. Don't forget who I am Mr. Payne."

Liam sits down again and exhales heavily. "What do you want, Zayn?"

Zayn cuts the turkey sandwich into half and lifts the other piece while he shoves the plate with the other half to Liam. "I want you to eat. After you've eaten, then we'll talk."

Liam looks at the sandwich with disgust and glares at Zayn. "What if it's poisoned?"

Zayn snorts and looks at him dumbly.

"Why would you think I want to poison you?"

"Don't you want me dead?"

Zayn waves it off and sits up straight. He furrows his brows and pinches the bridge of his nose. He makes a small smile and looks at Liam who's eyes are tired and dull. He looks apprehensive but so, so tense. There's a pout forming on his lips and Zayn shakes his head before pointing at the sandwich.

"I don't even know this place," Zayn says. "I couldn't just ask the chef to put something in your sandwich, could I? That would be a crime, wouldn't it?"

Liam rolls his eyes and shrugs.

"Think of it, I ordered this sandwich, for _me_. I'm only sharing the half to you, but still, it's for me; my food. That's kinda silly, isn't it? Did you see me pit something in your sandwich?"

Liam shakes his head and looks down on the plate, "No."

Zayn's smile widen. 

"Exactly. None. Besides, why would I want to poison myself? Who would want me dead?"

"Nick," Liam whispers to himself but ends up telling the name a tad too loud than expected. Zayn looks at him blankly. Liam feels his face flusters and covers his mouth mouth quickly.

"Fuck. That was," Liam stutters. "I didn't mean that. That was rude of me. I'm sorry. Truly, sorry."

Zayn simply shrugs and takes a bite of his food. He nods at the sandwich in front Liam's plate and encourages him to take a bite.

Liam does as told and chews his food quietly. He's definitely hungry and the moment his tongue coaxed into the taste of the turkey, bread and cheese, he lets out a moan. His eyes widened and his ears turn red from embarrassment.

It wasn't easy especially when Louis is missing. No one dare gives the police any information, no clues to track where Louis could possibly be. 

He had thought that Louis was dead but the little damage on his flat that night said otherwise.he couldn't imagine who had done such thing, the idea of Borgata had hit him but Louis had assured him the last time he broke his car that it wasn't. That was his mate and if there's anyone who would want him dead, it could possibly be Nick.

"But this is mad," Liam had exclaimed, shock written all over his face. Louis had shown him a file of all girls that were abducted the past years and all clues that had led to no other than Nick.

Liam couldn't believe it at first. He had denied the idea, truly adamant that their mayor wouldn't do such thing. But as each day had passed in their basement, locked themselves until the wee hours of the night, read file after file, searched for clues, ran a background check on everyone, all of it had led them to Grimshaw. It had flashed to them, clear as the daylight, who the real mastermind was.

"I know it's hard to accept," Louis had said. "But, it is what it is."

He had ran a hand on his face and exhaled deeply. "This won’t be easy but we definitely have to do something."

"What are you suggesting?" 

"Let's open the case before the re-opening," Louis had said. He knew he shouldn't have said it because Liam had only looked at him like he said something really stupid.

"That would create such a commotion," Liam had replied. The public would've gone mad about this. Just what would happen to Plain Views, then? I am also positive it'll be difficult for us, too."

Liam had looked at Louis carefully, knowing that thoughts were running in full speed inside his head. Liam had been certain that Louis knew something that he didn't.

"But he'll use the re-opening to trade. This would be bad, you and I both know it."

Liam had shook his head. "I know, but see, Louis. We're going against the mayor. And we still need more clues for this."

"Aren't these enough?"

Even before he could have responded, Louis had already stepped out the room, fire on his tracks.

What could have happened if Liam had listened to Louis? Would the bombing be avoided if Liam had followed Louis' propositions? 

Liam had thought it could actually have a bearing.

"We couldn't find the body," Paul had informed. Liam was sitting on Louis' bed, elbows on his knees as he tried to think who possibly do such thing. It was Louis' flat. 

"There's too much blood everywhere," Paul had continued. "But we can't be so sure. What if someone abducted him?"

"We tried calling all hospitals. All A&T in town had no Louis Tomlinson checked in," Ken had said. 

Liam had only nodded and asked everyone to leave him for a moment.

Liam sighs as he takes another bit of the sandwich and looks at Zayn. He doesn't understand himself, couldn't decipher everything from here. What happens next? What should he do now?

"I can hear you thinking through my chewing," Zayn breaks his thoughts and Liam snaps in surprise. He looked at Zayn with a confused look.

"Sorry?"

"I said," Zayn swallows. "The faster you finish your sandwich and your coffee, the sooner you can see Louis."

Liam knows he shouldn't trust him but he also knows that Zayn is the only person he can rely on right now. 

He was still surprised to receive an envelope on his desk this morning. It was a white letter envelope with golden flap and Liam had thought it was some sort of a wedding invitation. He opened the flap and saw the initials Z.M written in beautiful cursive. Inside, he found a card with a name of a restaurant and time. There's a short note telling to go alone or Louis will most definitely get hurt.

It's pretty much Zayn's fault why Liam's a tad antsy towards him even if he hadn't gotten enough sleep for a week.

They eat in silence after that. The waitress dropped by awhile ago to check if they still want to order anything sweet for dessert. Liam shook his head and Zayn brushed it off, and asked for the cheque instead.

When the waitress arrives back, she just smiles at Zayn and shakes her head. Liam looks at them with furrowed brows. The waitress points a man a few tables away from them wearing a black dress shirt and tan trousers. Zayn's face lightens up and grins.

"Tell Ant, I said thanks," Zayn says and gets up slowly. He turns to face Anthony and waves two fingers playfully. "Tell him, I'll drop by again soon, when everything's okay."

The waitress nods, not really understanding anything but smiles as she clears the table. Liam gets up too, his eyes bouncing from Zayn and to Ant.

"A friend?" Liam inquires. Zayn shrugs simply.

"He's the owner. Yeah, a friend," Zayn tells the police. Angelo gets up from his chair too and follows them. Liam glances at the bodyguard carefully and silently. 

"Hey, you said you didn't know this place," Liam says, whines really, and Zayn raises an eyebrow at him as they reach the entrance. He notices Angelo punches something in his phone but eyes still on Zayn.

"Well, I forgot," Zayn answers bashfully. "Yeah, I must've forgotten." He grabs a cigarette packet from the breast pocket of his suit.

"A friend you are," Liam mutters under his breath. Zayn only chuckles.

"Why are you being so sore about this?"

"But if he's the owner and a mate, then he might have asked the chef to poison it."

Zayn chuckles as he lights the cigarette and Angelo opens the door, leading them out. A black Mercedes-Benz stops by the driveway. Angelo opens the door for them and grunts at Liam.

"You're being silly. I ate half of the sandwich. Do you actually think like this? Like, we're in some cartoon? Your imagination never fail to amaze me, chief."

Liam shrugs and rolls his eyes. 

"Comics, actually."

Zayn shoots his brows and nods. "That's. That's actually cool. I like comics, too."

Liam pulls the coat tightly around him. The rain hasn't stopped yet and Liam internally groans at how the traffic would be in this hour. He looks at Zayn and the latter only nods toward the backseat.

"Oh no. Oh, no, no, no." Liam tries to argue. He takes a step behind and crosses his arms, he's not feeling confident about this. It is not safe. It certainly is not safe, getting in someone else's car, especially if said car belongs to the Borgata.

Zayn rolls his eyes and snaps his fingers. Liam almost laughs at the snap thing, as if giving a command to dogs, but yelps when Angelo grabs him by the shoulders and shoves him inside the vehicle.

—

Louis is sitting on the bed, bored and annoyed.

Earlier this morning, he was asking if he could leave the bed, demanding to take in some fresh air. He was denied of course, and even if he tried, he can't just go stand on his own. The stupid cast on his knee is too much, together with the bloody IV drop attached on the back of his hand 24/7.

Caroline dropped by, gave him his breakfast and lunch two hours ago. He woke up late, blame the medicine a nurse had injected eight hours ago. It also had caused him certain mood swings like a fucking girl. He pleaded for Caroline to let him wander on his own, but the lady shook her head.

"Sorry, love," Caroline says. "Harry was adamant not to let you out. Besides, you still need to rest. You're still unwell." Worry was visible in her voice.

He loves Harry but he's hundred percent pissed at him right now. Well, not really. He's only a little bit, itsy bitsy teeny weeny angry at Harry.

He's been cooped in this wonderful and luxurious room for a week and it's not doing any good in his mind. It's not healthy and Louis wants nothing but to punch Harry for not letting him out.

Louis wouldn't snoop, he's not that kind. He wouldn't spy on things--he just wants another scenery to look at. Staring at the bookshelf and out the windows wouldn't be just enough to pacify his whining.

Again: he's mad at Harry now.

And who does Harry thinks he is? He's been ignoring Louis, like. Forever. Ever since last weekend, when he woke up after being knocked out for three days straight, Harry hasn't spoken to him. He didn't even bother dropping by or checking up on him. A proper 'hey, how are you?' would have been lovely. How very dare him tell what Louis should do.

At least Niall drops by occasionally, Emily plays with him once in a while, hell, even Zayn has visited for a chat the other night.

Now Zayn...

Zayn is a perfect Mafia Lord, that's for sure. He's fit. Like really fucking fit. The scrawny built gives a different impression on the entire Mafia clan. Well, Harry is the complete antithesis of the Borgata with his bubbly attitude and all. Zayn, however, has this perfect scary aura with him, yet still approachable.

Louis is certain that one wrong move with Zayn, his neck would be slit open in no less than a second.

"But, I'm bored," Louis exclaims, exaggeratedly.

"Theatrics won't work on me, poppet," Caroline retorts. She bops Louis' nose and fixes the IV drop. "I'll remove this now. Don't move your hand."

"Well, that's good news," Louis replies sarcastically. Caroline holds his arm and Louis closes his eyes as she pulls the needle. He flinches a bit, and frowns at the itch the tape that is starting to burn on his skin. Caroline quickly disinfects the skin and replaces the needle with a band aid.

"Hello Kitty? Seriously?"

"Emily insisted for you to use her boo boo tapes." Caroline flashes him a grin as she pulls the metal rack that holds the IV bag.

 

"When can we remove the cast? I think it's healed already," Louis snarks and Caroline just ignores him.

"I can feel it itching already."

"Come on, Caro! At least remove the bandages next."

Caroline simply ignores him as she fixes the duvet under Louis.

"Zayn will come in for a visit. You better act like a proper adult," Caroline says instead and Louis stares at her as if he heard nothing.

"Remove the cast and let me out of this room, _then_ I'll act proper."

Caroline grimaces and shoots him a glare.

"I don't understand what Harry sees in you," Caroline mutters too loud for Louis to hear.

"What?" Louis blinks. The name of Harry sends shivers in his spine. Damn it, he's still a bit mad at him. 

"I just want you to behave well with Zayn, love. Can you do that?"

"Is he going to finish me now?" Louis reiterates back and Caroline sets his lips in a straight line. 

"Stop it. He cares for you. We all do," she replies instead. She pinches Louis' cast free leg and smiles.

Louis rolls his eyes but still nods, defeated. It wasn't a lie. He knows the Borgata cares for him because he's alive and very much breathing. If not for them, Louis would have been dead by now.

"Anyway," Louis exhales. "Where's Harry?"

Caroline shrugs and walks to the cabinet across the room to fetch Louis a new set of bandages. She places it on the coffee table at the foot of the bed and fixes the couch.

"Is he mad at me?"

He sees a fly land on the ledge beside the white peonies. It's amazing how the flowers are always fresh everyday. And yet here he is, in a room the same as the fresh flowers, dying out of boredom.

"Silence means yes. So I assume, he is mad at me. What on earth then, if he is. Like bloody hell. I'm the one who's hurt and he has the guts to act all--"

"He's with Emily. He's fetching her from school. You and your thoughts, Louis. Seriously, you're better off knocked out," Caroline teases and Louis feels his ears heat.

He falls silent and looks at the flowers instead. It's been sweet of the clan to give him flowers everyday. He can't even remember the last time he spotted a proper flower vase in his 25 years of existence.

Caroline hums a wonderful tune while cleaning and setting Louis' pyjamas on the top of a drawer. Louis wonders whose clothes he's been wearing for a week. 

He tries not to ponder on anything and everything. He's starting to get headache and it annoys him. He hates Harry, yes. But, he loves Harry too. So yeah. He's torn. He misses Harry, is the thing and Harry has been ignoring him. 

Fucking lovely.

They hear a knock and when it opens, Louis gapes at the man wearing a dark brown coat he knows all too well. He can't believe his eyes, mouth almost reaching his laps as he stares at Liam beside Zayn.

They're like the perfect oxymoron in this predicament.

"Liam?" 

Liam rushes inside the room and stands beside Louis. "I will hit you right now, I swear. But, since you’re all peachy and covered with bandages, I've decided to stop myself."

Louis grins and looks at him warily. 

"I was so worried, you piece of shit," Liam says and Louis cringes at how he cusses with a complete strong deep tone he wasn't used to.

Now, see, this is really surprising. Here are two policemen inside the boundaries of the Borgata - the clan they've been trying to capture - feeling all welcomed and comfortable in such place.

"You're here," Louis mumbles. He spots Caroline talking to Zayn and steps out of the room. Zayn leans against the doorframe and clears his throat.

"I'll come back, yeah?" Zayn tells them. "I just need to deal something in the office. I asked Caroline to bring you guys tea."

Liam falls silent but nods. Louis grins and raises a thumb. Zayn smiles at that and shuts the door close.

It's unsettling at first; Louis tries to digest everything. Liam is actually here and he wonders what are the thoughts running in his head.

"How are you?" Louis begins and Liam sits on the stool beside the bed.

"Funny you ask," Liam says as he gazes around the room and then falls on Louis.

"We thought you were dead," Liam adds and Louis swallows.

"I thought I died too. Until I woke up in bandages and an IV drop attached on my hand."

"What happened? No one saw you. The entire complex was empty when you got home, you know? Like it was planned very well."

Louis nods. He leans against the pillows and looks at Liam. He tells Liam everything, Liam grunting at parts where Louis tried to move. He confesses that he's been talking to the Borgata, most especially, earning him shocked eyes. He narrates how everything started, how he truly thinks that Grimshaw must be sent to jail and how everything they thought they knew about the Borgata were nothing but lies. They were actually a good clan of people and mean no harm.

Liam stays silent for quite some time. Caroline drops by to send their teas and madeleines as snack and quickly leaves.

After a few more moments of silence, the door opens and Louis smiles at the sight of Emily. Her hairs loose, dirty blonde against her shoulders and she's wearing a floral printed dress and yellow leggings. She twirls inside the room and stops when she sees Liam.

"Hello," Emily mumbles and folds her arms behind her back. Louis wants to coo at how she utterly looks like her father. "Are you a friend of Louis?"

Liam places the teacup on the bedside table and smiles at her. "Yes, I am. My name's Liam and I would like to thank you for taking care of Louis."

Emily blushes and runs beside Louis. She jumps on the bed, careful on Louis' knee and tucks her face against Louis. Louis is surprised but wraps an arm around her small body and pushes a strand covering her face.

"Is Em being shy?" Louis asks and Emily says nothing but presses her face closer to Louis' chest.

Liam chuckles and gives Louis a look. 

They continue to chatter, Emily shares her day in school and Louis asks how Liam was. 

Liam watches the way Louis would easily make Emily laugh and how Emily would openly tickle Louis and cuddle against him. Liam then realises that they've must know each other for a while and it looks domestic, it's heartwarming.

Moments later Zayn barges inside. Louis and Emily are so engrossed talking that they didn't realise Zayn's arrival. Liam looks at the Mafia Lord and shows a small smile.

"They're quite a duo," Zayn says as he stands beside Liam and they both watch how Emily is hugging Louis and resting his chin on his chest while Louis is busy rubbing her back comfortingly.

"They do. It's actually nice. I've never seen this side of Louis," Liam tells him.

"So, what would be your plan?"

Liam looks at Zayn. He knows he means more with that simple question but he really doesn't know what to do right now, if he's being honest. He doesn't even know what to do with Louis, or the Borgata, or Grimshaw--or everything, really.

"I-I honestly don't know," Liam replies eyes on Louis' casted knee.

"Well, if you really want to do this the right way--"

"Zayn, mate," Louis says. "I didn't see you coming in."

Emily lays her head and Louis chest and smiles at her uncle. She lets out a yawn and Louis runs his fingers in her scalp.

"Your papa wants you home," Zayn says and Emily nuzzles on Louis' chest instead.

"But I don't want to go home yet," Emily whines. Another yawn escapes her mouth making the three men chuckle.

"Papa's making tacos for dinner."

Emily lifts her head, like a dog hearing a wonderful sound of a dog treat, and smiles widely at Zayn. She jumps off the bed and grins at Louis.

"Tacos are my favourite!"

Zayn nods and lifts Emily off the floor. She latches her body against his body like a koala and lays her head on Zayn's shoulder.

"We better get going," Zayn announces. Liam gets up from the stool too and looks at Louis.

"And I, too," Liam says. Louis nods and Liam steps closer, giving Louis a hug.

"Be healthy, get stronger, and I'll deal with the rest."

Louis nods, feeling Liam's hold relax against him and smiles. He misses this coffee addict so much, working late night with Liam discussing cases and how on earth they're going to deal with them.

Zayn bids goodbye, Emily waves at him sleepily and Liam follows behind.

Louis lies on his back, feeling exhaustion-the happy tired kind- wave in his body. Any minute a nurse will drop by to inject the bloody medicine that will make him all weak and wobbly again. 

—

"I hope you'll take our offer," Zayn says as they sit inside the car. Emily has her head on Zayn's lap, her body on the seat. Liam is at the other end, Emily's legs on his lap.

Angelo looks at the rear view mirror and focuses back on the road.

Liam stays still on his seat. He watches out the window and notices that they're almost near to the police station. He sighs and looks at Zayn when Angelo stops a block away.

"I'll think about it," Liam replies. 

Angelo unlocks the door and Liam smiles.

He gets out of the door and throws Zayn one last look.

"Thank you for taking care of Louis. I'll inform you soon. I just need to think about things."

Zayn runs a hand on Emily's hair. "I'm sure. I hope you decide fast."

—

Louis stirs on his bed, feeling a bit lethargic and even more so exhausted. He's burning, and yet he feels cold at the same time. The windows are closed, the curtains dull against the glass. Louis mutters something under his breath, 

This has been his evening ritual ever since after his surgery. Someone would give him a warm wash on bed but he's too drunk and dazed to even argue or see who would actually put an effort on calming him.

Every night, when he feels feverish, someone would actually be there and wipe his limb and his entire body with a flannel soaked in water just to help him break the fever out. Warm hands would patiently change his bandages and help him with his pyjamas and Louis had been knocked out too hard to even notice who the person is.

He grunts and groans as he feels his sweat creep down his body. His limbs ache and his knee starts to itch terribly. It must be healing if that's the case, so he can finally remove it, right?

He hears the door open but his eyelids are too heavy to look who it was. He shivers at the sudden touch on his forehead and he wants to really know who this person is because 1) the person has been really thoughtful and 2) Louis needs to at least thank the person for tolerating him every time he struggles during the wash.

"You're too hot," the voice says and Louis grunts as reply.

He's feeling worse, actually. The worst among all nights and Louis wonders if this is a good sign or it means otherwise. He doesn't know what it means but he wants this to stop. He terribly wants to get better and sleep normally.

Lost in his thoughts, he doesn't realise the arms under his legs and around his shoulders. He's being lifted off the bed and Louis wonders how can someone lift him so easily as if he weighs nothing. He knows his arse is bloody heavy but wow. This is something. 

Louis makes another whimper when he feels his back hitting against something soft yet sturdy. Louis soon realises that he's against a chest because when he pulls his head to the side, he feels skin and neck against his cheek. He hears the sound of water, the squeaky sound of faucet being opened. 

He nuzzles his head against the neck and lets out a satisfied sound when a kiss touched his forehead.

"I'm going to remove your clothes," the voice says again. It's low and slow and Louis wills his eyes to open; he pushes his brain to order his body to react on anything because someone's going to strip him naked. 

Louis clutches on the hand instinctively when he felt a hand on his waist. 

"N-no," Louis mumbles. 

Another kiss on his forehead and Louis quickly releases the hand. 

"I just need to bathe you. Your fever needs to break out."

Louis nods albeit slowly and exhales heavily, feeling his body getting weaker and weaker.

The hands make their way on Louis' waist and slowly pulls down his trousers. He feels a little cold at the sudden exposure and groans when his pants were pulled down too.

The person hums as comfort and Louis whimpers, his arms falling on his sides as he tries to tell the person of his discomfort. The water stops running and the cast on his knee is being sliced open by the nurse. Louis concludes that the person is a nurse. Only a certified nurse can do such things with so much care.

He's relieved when the cast is removed on his knee. He knew it's almost time for it already! It's been itching for two days now and he's gotten his surgery almost a week ago.  
The hands are now undoing the buttons of his shirt, long warm fingers brush against his skin making him shiver even more. 

Once he's completely naked, the arms are back on his shoulders and under his thighs. He is being lifted again and all sleepiness flies off his sense when he hit the water.

It's warm and comforting, especially when the nurse mixed in some cherry blossom sort of bubble bath in the water. It calms his senses and Louis relaxes in the tub, his legs outstretched. The nurse then slowly removes all his bandages after the nurse leaned Louis's back against the lip of the tub carefully.

When the final bandage is removed, Louis sighs as his body relaxes under the water, feeling his muscles uncoil and his senses reach total comfort.

A flannel touches his neck, damping it with water and the scent infiltrating his nose. A hand cups his face and finally, Louis has collected all his strength to open his eyes.

He sees green and Louis furrows his brows in confusion when something wet drops on his cheek. He decides that it is just the water from the flannel but when realisation hits him, it was tears.

"Harry," Louis mutters weakly, voice so foreign in his ears. 

Harry only shakes his head and continues to wipe Louis' neck and arms with the flannel. Louis stays still and listens to Harry's sniffles. 

It's Harry all these times and Louis doesn't know how to express his gratitude because Harry really has a big heart and he's too good for Louis. Too good.

He's fully awake now, body still a bit numb from the pain, but definitely awake. He watches as Harry washes him, knees on the cold tiles and arms shaking a every time Harry dips the cloth in the water.

The water is still hot and comforting but Harry's silence makes it all otherwise.

"I'm sorry," Harry says all of sudden and Louis tilts his head in confusion. 

Why is Harry being like this?

"I'm sorry you have to be a part of this," Harry whispers, tears mixing with the bathwater, some falling on Louis shoulder. 

He doesn't even know what to reply, couldn't come up with words--because there's no word to tell Harry that it's okay. 

He can only show it.

Louis turns on the tub and lifts his arms. He wraps it around Harry's neck and pulls him close. He hugs Harry despite the inconvenience and presses a kiss on Harry's cheek.

"Hey, it's my job. It's a part of who I am." Louis assures, voice soft. 

"But this was my fault. Louis, you don't understand. You got hurt because of me."

Louis pulls away and presses his forehead against Harry's. "I think what you don't understand is that I'm alive because of you."

Harry sniffs and stays silent. Louis smiles at him encouragingly and leans in to connect their lips. Louis presses hard, lips tight against Harry's soft ones. 

Harry's wet cheek brushes against Louis' nose and he tilts his head farther to kiss Harry deeper.

He should feel indecent, he's kissing the man he loves naked, in a tub and trying to break the fever out. Louis snaps his eyes open and pulls away.

"I have fever," Louis says and Harry only shakes his head. He leans in to give Louis a quick peck on the lips.

"Your fever's already gone, I think. It's okay."

"Well, I really don't care if you catch my virus," Louis replies and Harry looks at him confused. "As long as I know that you're not mad at me. I'm all good."

"I'm mad at you?" Harry asks dumbly and Louis nods.

"I haven't seen you in a week. Feels like you've been avoiding me," Louis replies bashfully. The water is starting to get cold.

Harry smiles and wipes his tears with his forearm. 

"I always visit you in the evening, to change you in your pyjamas, I always change your peonies and you think I'm cross with you?"

Louis blinks and trails invisible paths on Harry's back. Harry shifts closer and nuzzles on his cheek. He feels his cheeks blush and Louis internally groans.

"No. I just--I just thought you were like, mad or summat."

Harry giggles and leans to press another kiss on his lips.

Louis smiles and pokes Harry on the nose.

"I think I want to get up now."

Harry places a palm on Louis' forehead and nods. He's about to carry Louis when Louis shakes his head.

"Hand me a towel first," Louis says, cheeks red.

"What for?"

"Oh you know what for," Louis sasses and Harry chuckles. He gets up on his feet and gets Louis a clean towel. He hands it to Louis and Bends down to loft Louis off the tub. Louis spreads the towel open and as soon as he gets off the water, Louis covers his anatomy with the towel, making Harry chuckle.

Harry walks out of the bathroom, hugging Louis tighter and for the first time this week, Louis thinks he can finally fall asleep peacefully.

**Author's Note:**

> The next chapter will be up soon! 
> 
> Let me know about your thoughts about this, yeah? x


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